


Wandering in Endless Night

by wbss21



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Emotional Trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Physical Abuse, Physical Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, child prostitution, mental trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 28
Words: 98,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24153385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wbss21/pseuds/wbss21
Summary: The crumpled bills in Ash’s hand don’t amount to much.  A pitiful haul of sixteen bucks and some loose change to show for tonight’s work.He could get more, probably, but after that last John, he doesn’t really think he wants to try.//Ash at 13.
Comments: 431
Kudos: 279





	1. Chapter 1

The crumpled bills in Ash’s hand don’t amount to much. A pitiful haul of sixteen bucks and some loose change to show for tonight’s work.

He could get more, probably, but after that last John, he doesn’t really think he wants to try.

Fucking bastard hadn’t wanted to pay for the blowie he’d gotten, and when Ash had dared to insist, the big, fat fuck had teed off on him. Knew what he’d been doing too, sinking that meaty fist of his into Ash’s kidney first. Ash hadn’t been able to breathe for a second, and the guy had laid another one against his left eye, the world exploding into a burst of white before Ash had managed to scramble back off the bed and grab his gun from underneath his pile of clothes.

That had stopped the bastard in his tracks, his reaching hands freezing in place as Ash had pushed himself back farther, until his back had pressed against the wall behind him.

Shoulda’ robbed the asshole blind, Ash thinks now, glaring at the prices marked underneath the cans of soda lining the shelves, ‘stead of just makin’ him leave what was owed for the blowie before tellin’ him to get out. 

Doesn’t know why he does stuff like that. 

He huffs, shoving the bills back into the pocket of his hoodie, opening the glass door in front of him and pulling out a Coke. The cold of the glass bottle burns at the tips of his fingers and against his palm, and he tries to focus on it instead of the throbbing ache spreading through his insides.

He feels sick. Like he’s gonna puke again. He hopes he doesn’t. He’d barely made it to the hotel rooms dingy bathroom after the John had left before puking his guts out.

He doesn’t think he can go back there tonight, even though the room was already paid for. He doesn’t want to be there, with the stale air of the place filled with the stink of sex and blood and vomit.

He shakes his head, letting the glass door swing shut and focusing his gaze on the waxy looking floor beneath his worn-out sneakers. The bright lights of the convenience store hurt his eyes. He knows he’s already got a hell of a shiner forming from that punch he took earlier, and he can still taste blood on the back of his tongue from where the inside of his cheeks cut against his teeth.

He can’t afford a fuckin’ ice pack, so he grabs a bag of frozen peas from the next freezer over.

He grabs a pack of Twinkies and a roll of Necco’s on his way to the counter.

Papa Dino would be pissed if he knew Ash was eating this kind of junk. But fuck Papa Dino. He wasn’t here and Ash wanted them, so he was gonna have ‘em.

The clerk at the counter is a pimply faced, gawky kid who looks like he’s maybe 18 or 19, and he eyes Ash suspiciously as he approaches.

Ash doesn’t guess he can blame him. He knows what he looks like.

He dumps his stuff on the counter top and stares up at the clerk.

“That it?” The clerk asks.

“Pack of smokes.” Ash tells him.

The clerk’s eyes narrow at him.

“How old are ya kid?”

Ash rolls his eyes.

“Eighteen.” 

The clerk doesn’t look like he buys it. Ash can’t really blame him for that either. He’s 13, but he looks even younger, he knows.

“I got ID, if that’s what you wanna see.”

The clerk continues to eye him for a few, long seconds more, before he shakes his head.

“Whatever. What kind you want?”

“Whatever kind’s cheapest. ‘Long as they ain’t menthols.”

The clerk turns around and grabs a pack from the rack behind him.

“Winston okay?”

“Yeah, that’s cool.”

The clerk starts ringing the stuff up and Ash glances at the clock on the wall behind the counter. It’s just past 2 AM.

He doesn’t know where he’s gonna stay tonight. He’s not gonna have enough cash left over after this to afford another room, and the shelters are no doubt already booked up.

He’ll just have to find somewhere…

“$2.84.” 

Ash reaches into his hoodie pocket, grabbing a handful of bills and laying them on the counter. 

He sorts through the change. All’s he’s got is fives and tens and a one. 

The clerk’s mouth twists as he catches a glimpse of Ash’s hands. Skinny fingers and blunt nails chopped off too short, caked under with dirt and blood. Courtesy of trying to fight off that John from earlier. His knuckles are scraped to shit too. Doesn’t quite remember how that happened. He knows it looks bad.

“You got change for a five?” Ash asks, ignoring the way he can feel the clerks eyes lingering on him. He hates when people stare at him. They do it all the fuckin’ time.

“Here man.” The clerk hands him a plastic bag full of his stuff. “Just take it. You don’t gotta pay.”

Ash looks up at him, a shock of sudden, irrational anger coursing through his blood.

“Don’t feel sorry for me.” He snaps. “I don’t need your charity.”

“Hey man, I was just tryin’ to help you out.”

“Well I don’t need your fuckin’ help! J-just give me change for a five like I asked.”

“Sheesh man, alright. Calm down.”

Heat burns at Ash’s cheeks, and he shoves the feeling away. He shouldn’t of snapped at the guy like that, but he feels too fuckin’ rotten to care right now. He just wants his junk so he can go and find somewhere to stay for the night.

The clerk sorts out his change and Ash takes it, crumpling it up in his fist and grabbing the plastic bag, mumbling out a thanks before turning and leaving.

He needed to get out of the place, the lights overhead starting to swirl and throb behind his eyes, the world tilting dangerously under his feet.

The night air is cool, heavy with humidity and the thick taste of salt from the water. It’s enough to ground Ash for a moment, clearing his jumbled thoughts.

He needed to find somewhere isolated enough that he wouldn’t get harassed by any pervs, but warm enough to fight off the chill in the air. He’s already shaking, which isn’t a good thing.

He stands on the curb outside the convenience store a moment, rummaging around inside the plastic bag and grabbing the bag of frozen peas. He holds it to his throbbing eye, teeth gritting against the sharp sting of it, before he steps off the curb and begins wandering aimlessly down the street. 

He makes it a couple blocks before the surge of nausea puts him on his knees and he’s throwing up all over the pavement. 

The pain through his insides steals the breath from his lungs, his vision going white with it as he curls forward, his body convulsing violently as he pukes up what little was in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning, so there isn’t much. Mostly just a white, frothy liquid which leaves a sickening taste at the back of his throat, making him gag.

It lasts maybe a minute, but it feels like forever, and by the time it’s over, he’s gasping for breath. A thick rope of saliva hangs off his lower lip, refusing to break, and Ash reaches up a shaking hand, grabbing at it with clumsy fingers and tearing it free.

He wipes his hand on his pants. It’s disgusting, but he feels too shitty to care. Fuck… he hopes he’s not bleeding inside or somethin’. 

He sits there a few minutes more, trying to calm his breathing, the ringing in his ears loud and distracting. He tries to make it to his feet again. His legs are useless beneath him though, knees collapsing back to the pavement.

A few more minutes maybe…

His bag of stuff is scattered along the blacktop, pack of Twinkies sitting pitifully in the gutter, Neco’s a little ways more into the road. His bottle of Coke somehow didn’t break, rolled away and coming to a stop in the middle of the street. Ash can’t see where his bag of peas went. Doesn’t matter. It was starting to melt anyway.

Swallowing down the taste of sick in his mouth, he tries again for his feet, and manages to fight off the wave of dizziness this time, squeezing his eyes against it.

He takes a moment more to make certain he won’t go down again before, with unsteady steps, he moves into the street, bending cautiously to start gathering his things.

Somehow he feels worse than when he left the store. He doesn’t think he’ll make it far tonight. Whatever overpass he can find will have to do for shelter then.

He finds one not too much later, and a powerful relief takes hold of him as he stumbles into shadows of it and doesn’t see anyone else squatting here. Homeless people were usually harmless, but you never really knew either. He’d woken up plenty of times with some freak show on top of him, their hand shoved down the front of his pants.

It was places like these where Ash spent most nights when he’d first run away from Cape Cod and ended up on the streets of this city. 

It was while he was sleeping under an overpass one night that Marvin found him…

He shoves that memory away, pressing his hand against the cool concrete as he moves farther in. When he feels satisfied he’s suitably hidden from anyone on the street, he allows himself to slump down the curved wall until he’s sitting on the damp soil and grass beneath.

Dino’s expecting him at the compound tomorrow.

If he doesn’t show, he’ll send Marvin after him.

He doesn’t want to think about Marvin. He doesn’t want to think about Dino.

He tries to distract himself by fumbling with his pack of Twinkies.

His hands shake hard as he struggles with the plastic wrapping.

In the dim light bleeding into the underpass from the overhead street lamps, Ash can make out the dried and crusting blood covering his knuckles, and the filth caked onto his palms and fingers, underneath his nails. 

He finally manages to tear the wrapping and he pulls one of the spongy cakes free, his fingers sinking into the golden shell, white cream squeezing out and smearing all over them. 

Dino would tell him he’s a disgusting animal, eating with his filthy hands like this. Dino would slap him hard across the mouth, would tell him he’s not fit for company. He would say the sight of Ash made him sick, before ordering him to go clean up and make himself presentable. Dino would deny him food for days, if he knew Ash had eaten anything sweet like this… No breakfast, no lunch, no dinner. No snacks. He would have men in the kitchen to make sure Ash couldn’t sneak anything…

Ash brings the Twinkie to his lips and takes a big bite, not caring how the cream smears all over his mouth and cheeks. Dino isn’t here, so it doesn’t matter what the bastard would say.

He pops the top off his Coke and downs half of bottle. It burns down his throat. His eyes sting.

Dino wasn’t here, so it doesn’t matter… it doesn’t…

He has enough left to take a taxi to New Jersey in the morning… He’s gotta find a taxi early so Marvin doesn’t come…

Dino’s gonna be mad when he sees what a mess Ash is. When he sees his black eye and the bruises forming along his torso…

Ash’s eyes sting and burn and he blinks hard against it.

He thinks of Griff.

The stinging’s worse, and then he’s crying.

Stupid. He’s such a stupid baby. 

He crams the rest of the Twinkie into his mouth, chewing and wiping at his eyes and nose.

He wishes he didn’t have to go see Dino tomorrow. He wishes he didn’t. But if he doesn’t, Marvin’s gonna come and… and Marvin’ll rape him too. He’ll rape him and just hand him over to Dino anyhow, and Dino’s gonna rape him after, so it doesn’t… it doesn’t change nothin’ anyway, if he doesn’t go. It’ll just make it worse. 

He remembers sitting in the grass in front of his and Griff’s house in Cape Cod, Griff sitting next to him. Remembers Griff pointing out the constellations and telling him about them. Remembers the feel of Griff carrying him in his strong arms, back to the house, because Ash had fallen asleep out there…

He doesn’t know what happened to Griff. Dead, he guesses. Probably dead in the war. One of those nameless soldiers that never made it home…

Ash’s stomach roils and churns, and he thinks for a second he’s gonna puke again. He gags a little, a thin stream of bile all that comes out.

He can’t eat any more.

The air’s gone fat with water, chillier, and it’s gonna rain, Ash thinks. He feels cold. He always feels cold.

He thinks about the pack of smokes. Then realizes he didn’t get no matches.

He guesses he should try to sleep, but if he falls asleep, the morning’ll come quicker, and then Dino.

He wraps his arms around himself, the smell of rain heavy, a loud whistle blowing through the tunnel as the wind picks suddenly up.

A few minutes later, it starts to drizzle, and Ash presses himself against the concrete, arms tight around his middle.

He cries a little more. 

He doesn’t want to see Dino in the morning…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a huge, HUGE thank you to everyone for your support on this story. I was just bowled over by the response, and I can't tell you how much it means to me. If you have a chance, I would love to keep hearing from you all, so leave a comment if you can! It really inspires me to keep going when you do.
> 
> Just a warning here guys, please mind the tags for this chapter. We're going to be dealing with some pretty painful and dark themes and situations, which I guess you all already understand, given the nature of Banana Fish as a story, including some pretty graphic scenes of child sexual abuse. This is just a reality for Ash, this is a very real and defining part of his life, and I don't think you can properly understand the trauma he's suffered, the way it's affected and impacted him, and the seriousness of what he's been through, without facing the truth of it head on, without any kind of whitewashing or sugarcoating. So again, just please be prepared going in.

Someone slaps his face, hard.

“Get up. You stupid little shit. I said get the fuck UP!”

Another slap, and Ash is fully conscious for this one. It sends a lance of pain jarring up through his eye socket and into his temple. The world goes spinning, and his stomach cramps hard.

His blurring vision refuses to focus a moment, but the panic is already choking his throat.

He recognizes Marvin’s smell, even if his face is a sludge of mooshed lines and color above him.

He doesn’t have time to think beyond the panic before Marvin has hold of him by the hair and is yanking him up off the ground. He gets shoved back against the concrete wall behind him, his head snapping against it, and the world spins some more. 

Meaty fingers dig into his jaw and jerk his face up, and Ash gasps, his mind scrambling to understand past the blinding fear what it is that’s happening.

He’d fallen asleep. He’d come here after… after what happened with his John… after…

“Been stuffin’ that pretty face of yours with sweets, huh?!” Marvin’s too close, his foul breath turning Ash’s already spasming stomach. He holds up the half eaten pack of Twinkies. “Wonder what Papa’s gonna think of that?”

No, Ash thinks. 

He almost says it out loud, just barely swallowing the protest down as Marvin leans closer, and the fear begins to eat him alive, his skin on fire like a million needles.

Marvin’s mouth against his does his stomach in. He wretches violently. He barely hears the disgusted curse above him as he’s let go from the wall, slumping forward onto his hands and knees. 

He throws up. Hardly anything left in his stomach now, white froth and spit. 

The world swerves and spins around him at a sickening pace.

Ash doesn’t know he’s falling until the ground slams into his face, his arms collapsed and folded beneath him.

“Nasty little fuck!”

Marvin’s fat hand is buried in the hood of his sweater, pulling him up. The world turns again. Ash’s vision blacks out a moment, the ringing in his ears becoming a roar. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribs. He can’t breathe. 

“I oughtta smash those perfect little teeth of yours in for that, you fuckin’ slut!” 

Another, hard slap. There’s a sharp pain inside his mouth, the fresh taste of copper on his tongue.

“I would if Papa wasn’t so bent outta shape about those looks a’ yours. Goddamn little cunt.” 

Was this a dream? Was… how had Marvin found him? How? What time was it? He was gonna catch a taxi come morning. He couldn’t of slept that long. He couldn’t of…. Was he dreaming? Oh, God… 

“Hey! Look at me, Ash! You stupid fuck. Look here!” Marvin’s hand is on his face again, squeezing vicious at his cheeks. “You’re fuckin’ disgusting, Jesus. Look at you. Come here…”

Marvin’s hand is on the back of his neck now, and he’s shoving Ash forward, out from the underpass, towards the street. 

Ash stumbles and falls. The grounds wet from last nights rain. His jeans are worn through at the knees, and can feel the sting of the mud against his scrapped up skin.

“For fuck’s sake… Get UP you pansy shit.”

Marvin takes hold his hood again, hauling him bodily from the ground and pushing him forward.

The sun burns against his eyes as they exit the shade of the underpass. He blinks rapidly against it, heart thudding in his ears. He can’t hear nothin’. He can’t hear. Can’t see. God… oh God… This was real. Marvin found him and he had him now.

“Fuckin’ sweatin’ like a pig. It ain’t even that hot out. Come on, get! In the car, you stupid bastard.”

Marvin’s thick fingers yank at the door handle, and he shoves Ash’s head down, pushing him into the passenger side.

The door slamming sounds like his eardrums shattering, and Ash curls in on himself, pressing his face against the worn upholstery of the seat. 

Ash leans back towards his sides door when he hears Marvin get in. The air in here smells like him. Like garlic, sweat and smoke and pigs feet. 

“You’re gonna fuckin’ pay for making me come all the way out here to get you, you god damned whore. Papa was expectin’ you no later than noon. You know what fuckin’ time it is? Huh!? Look here, you shit!”

There’s suddenly a glass watch face in his own, Marvin’s overgrown nail tapping sharply at it. The sound is horrible.

“That says 2:00. Or can’t you read? Papa keeps sayin’ how smart you are, but you ask me, you ain’t nothin’ but a dumb fuckin’ slut.”

Ash blinks. He shakes his head.

“… I meant to come.”

“The fuck you just say?”

“I… I meant… I was gonna come… I was gonna take a t-taxi…”

“Lyin’ shit. You ain’t nothin’ but a liar. You do this shit to fuck with me. Well, you gonna pay now boy. Dino ain’t expectin’ us for a while yet, so you and me, we’re gonna make a little stop. Hope you got yourself nice and loose from workin’ last night, cause my cock’s going so far up that sweet little ass of yours, you’re gonna feel it in your guts.”

There’s the panic again. Squeezing his throat so tight he can’t get no air. He wants to cry, but it’ll just make Marvin meaner if he does. He likes it when Ash cries. They all like it when he cries. So he tries not to. He tries so hard not to… 

He wishes he had his Mama. He wishes he had Griff. But both of ‘em were dead, probably. Both of ‘em were dead.

Marvin’s heavy hand falls on his thigh, slides up into his crotch and squeezes.

Ash bites his lip and turns away, arms curled against his chest. He presses his face to his shoulder. Like somehow that's supposed to make it stop. Somehow supposed to make it like none of it was ever real.

//

Marvin makes him take a shower at the hotel. Tells him he’s fuckin’ disgusting and can’t be meeting Papa lookin’ the way he does. That’s bullshit. Like everything out of the bastard’s mouth.

Marvin likes watching him in the shower, that’s the reason. And that’s what he does. He sits on the toilet and watches. Reaches out when he feels like it and grabs and fondles Ash between his legs, thick fingers digging and rubbing along the cheeks of his ass.

Ash works hard not to react. He’s learned it’s the reaction guys like Marvin are lookin’ for. It gets ‘em hard, seeing kids squirm and get embarrassed. And so Ash’s been workin’ on keepin’ his face blank. It’s hard. He feels his stomach twist with humiliation, feeling Marvin’s small eyes on him, his grubby hands touchin’ him all over. He wants to smack those hands away. Wants to cover himself up. 

Marvin makes Ash lie down naked on the bed after, on his back. Ash knows what’s comin’, and his vision goes black with dread. He hates this. He hates when they do this to him. He hates his own, stupid body for reacting when he doesn’t want it to. He doesn’t want it.

Marvin’s hand on his penis is horrible, and Ash feels sick as the warmth spreads through his lower belly, building hard and fast. His eyes fill with tears, and he hates himself. He hates himself so much. God, he’s a disgusting freak. His stupid body comes and he’s sobbing and Marvin is laughing because he knows how hard Ash tries not to react, and he did anyway. He’s stupid and weak and Marvin’s laughing at him because of it. 

He smacks Ash around a little when Ash can’t stop crying, and then he rapes him. He ties Ash’s wrists to the bed frame like he always does, because he likes it when Ash can’t move, he likes how it feels when Ash can’t move. His fat gut rests heavy on Ash’s back as he pushes into him from behind. 

Vision tunnels and he can’t breathe. This was happening to him again… again… _again_ …

God, why… he’d meant to go to Dino in the morning. He was going to go.

This was happening now, and it would happen again later with Dino too and God, help… help, help, please help…

Ash buries his face into the pillow and bites down hard on the material to keep from making any noise. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think of something else. Anything but the horror strangling at his throat. He thinks he’ll die from it. No way his heart can hold out the way it slams bam, bam, bam in his chest. Blood feels like it’s boiling in his veins. Oh, God…

He thinks of Griff suddenly, and then he’s choking on shame. His eyes burn worse. He doesn’t want to think of Griff while this is happening. He doesn’t want to think of what Griff would think of him. 

The pain is blinding. Doesn’t seem to matter how many times this happens. It’s always like this. Fire lancing up his insides, burning him alive from the inside out. He can’t help the pained moan which slips from his throat as Marvin shoves harder into him, the sound muffled against the material of the pillow.

“You like that, sweetheart? Huh? You like my cock in your tight little hole?”

Ash’s hands squeeze into fists above his head, his nails cutting into his palms. Tries to focus on that. Focus on this pain instead. Digs until he feels warm wet squeeze between his fingers. Dino’ll be mad about that too. When he sees. His shoulders burn with a vicious ache. 

Marvin’s hand is suddenly in Ash’s hair, tearing at it as he forces his head up off the pillow, ripping painfully at his scalp. Ash’s eyes squeeze shut, lips parting in a half-wheezed whine, and Marvin’s other hand is at once over his mouth, his fat fingers shoving inside, halfway down the back of his throat.

Panic takes Ash again. He doesn’t think as he starts to struggle, convulsing, the binds around his wrists chaffing hard against the skin as he tries desperately to twist away.

Marvin laughs.

“What’s 'a matter, sweetheart? Thought you’d be used to having shit shoved down your throat by now. Come on, suck em’ for me baby. Go on.”

Ash wants to bite. He wants to bite Marvin’s fat fucking fingers clean off. For a wild, insane moment, he thinks he will.

“Think about biting me and I don’t care what Papa Dino says, I’ll take that gorgeous little head ‘a yours right off your shoulders. Now suck ‘em! Come on!”

Ash swallows, saliva thick in his mouth as Marvin pushes his fingers deeper. He gags, bile slipping up from his throat and washing over his tongue.

Marvin says something. His voice is angry, but Ash can’t make out what he says, the sound of his own heart too loud in his ears.

“… gusting little shit!” 

The fingers are suddenly gone, and Ash feels relief for only a moment before the back of Marvin’s hand comes down hard against the side of his face, knuckles sinking against the tender, bruised skin around Ash’s left eye, the heavy gold ring Marvin’s wearing slicing the skin clean open along his left cheek. Ash gasps, and Marvin hits him again, catching him on the ear this time, the world dissolving into a high-pitched ringing and swirling fast circles. 

He hits him again, on the back. In the kidney.

Ash pukes. 

And then Marvin comes with a drawn-out groan, and his fat, sweaty body falls on top of Ash and just lays there.

Ash doesn’t move.

Get out of me, he thinks desperately. His eyes burn with tears, the acrid taste of his own sick and Marvin’s fingers heavy on his tongue, the smell of it burning his nostrils.  
Dizzying horror seizes on his heart, and he almost screams. 

Get out of me! Get out of me!

Marvin pulls away, and Ash can feel the warm drip of his come down the inside of his thighs. Probably mixed with his own blood. 

Bile rises in his throat again, and he barely manages to swallow it back down.

“Get cleaned up, get dressed and meet me downstairs in five.” Marvin grabs hold of his face, jerking it to the side until Ash is forced to look at him. “And listen to me, you fucking bitch. You tell Papa that cut came from wherever you got that shiner last night. You hear? You better tell him that, or I’ll make you sorry, you little faggot.” 

Marvin shoves his face away and undoes the straps around his wrists. Ash’s arms slip limp from the bedframe. The sound of Marvin pulling his own clothes on is deafening in Ash’s ears. And then he’s gone.

Ash lies there. Gray nothing in his brain. His heart pumps, rushing in his ears. The room smells like sex and blood and piss and puke, burning in his nostrils. Stinging in his eyes. There’s an ache deep in his bones, stiff and brutal. His stomach churns and cramps and the taste of sick sits threatening at the back of his throat again. There’s nothing left but burning acid from his stomach. His throat aches. His insides burn.

Ash thinks of death.

He thinks of his own.

He wonders, when it comes for him, will it be in a place like this?

He wonders, while it does, will he feel all this still? 

Will he then reach out to take hold the promise death makes to him? 

Will death be kind, and lift this all away?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a massive thank you to everyone for the unbelievable support I've gotten on this story! I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate it, and how much it means to me. I'll try posting on Saturdays from here on. Once again, I ask everyone to please mind the tags, and otherwise, please enjoy!

It was in Club Cod that Ash had learned to hook.

Unsatisfied customers meant a horrible beating. You made the customers mad, they either beat you themselves, or one of Dino’s guys would do it for ‘em. You made ‘em mad, they’d make sure when they raped you, you couldn’t mistake it for nothin’ but that. They’d make sure it was bloody. Make sure it hurt as much as possible.

It took Ash months before he figured out what pissed ‘em off. Any kind of fighting back, any kind of resistance. That was obvious. But they didn’t like it neither when you gave ‘em nothin’ at all. You just lie there and don’t make no sound, don’t show no interest, that got ‘em just as mad. Sometimes madder. 

They liked it when you cried. Ash realized that early on. Crying turned ‘em on. They liked it when you showed you were scared. Ash had learned quickly not to show how afraid he was. It only egged ‘em on when you did. Made ‘em hard quicker. When you showed you were scared, they got crazier. Got whipped up, like some kinda’ rabid animals, and then they’d start hurting you more. Hands grabbing harder, holding you down with more force, fuckin’ you until you were nothin’ but a torn up mess. It got ‘em off, knowing they had the power to do that. To make you feel afraid. To make you cry.

It took Ash a few months more before he figured out that what they liked most of all was for you to act like you _liked_ it. Like they were doin’ you a favor by forcing you to have sex with ‘em. It was different than how they got if you cried or showed you were scared. They got to actin’ all sweet and nice to you if you played along with their fantasy and made ‘em feel like you were into it too. Moaning like it felt good. Arching your back. Holding onto ‘em. Calling their name like you wanted ‘em. It was always awful, but it didn’t hurt as much, if you played along. 

Even better was if you acted from jump like you were into it. If you came onto them first. They really liked that. And sometimes, even, if you made ‘em think you really liked ‘em, if you acted like you thought they were just the greatest ever, they’d even help you out with favors. They’d go easy. They’d give you shit, like food and money. Ash never cared about that so much. But sometimes, if you were real lucky, some nights they wouldn’t even fuck you. They’d just let you alone and talk at you about themselves. They loved talkin’ about themselves and how unfair the world was to ‘em. It was hard to listen to that crap sometimes. But it was better than being fucked.

It was about power, Ash had realized, and it made ‘em feel powerful if they thought they’d made you like ‘em. If they got you to agree with their fantasy. That was the ultimate domination for ‘em. Thinkin’ they’d gotten into your head like that. Thinkin’ they could make you feel whatever they wanted you to feel. Like you were some kind of automotan that they got to decide what it would think and feel.

It made ‘em feel powerful too if you acted like they were right. That got ‘em really off. ‘Cause it was like a validation for how they were. Twisted as fuck. But you acted like they were right as rain and shit, there wasn’t nothin’ wrong with them, well then that played into their ego, and they could pretend like what they were doin’ wasn’t what it was. Like it was really love or some fucked up notion. They were just showin’ you love. Right. They didn’t mean to hurt you. If you’d just stop actin’ like this wasn’t what was best for you, like what they wanted wasn’t what was best, you wouldn’t get hurt in the first place. If you’d just stop actin’ like what you wanted mattered, they wouldn’t have to make it so painful. It was your fault if they ended up having to hurt you.

That’s why they got so mad if you fought back, or made it obvious you didn’t want it. You made ‘em face the reality that you weren’t just some fuckin’ blow up doll for them to do whatever the fuck they wanted with, and they got real, real mad. Like you were steppin’ on their rights to feel special or some jacked up shit like that. Like how dare you act like you weren’t just some thing they owned and got to make act how they wanted, who’s thoughts and feelings weren’t something they got to decide on. You force ‘em to see you as a real person, they’d fuckin’ lose it. That wasn’t part of their fantasy. It was all about them, and havin’ that control. Nothin’ mattered but them, and you even suggested otherwise, that was it. They’d use it as an excuse to indulge what they wanted all the more.

Other people weren’t real to these freaks. They wanted you to agree with that. 

So Ash had figured, if he could get ‘em to stop being so rough by actin’ agreeable, he’d last longer. And maybe someday he’d find a way to escape. If he could last long enough. That’s what he’d figured.

There’d been so many other kid’s he’d seen carried out in plastic bags. Kid’s who didn’t learn to play along. Kid’s who didn’t learn to use what they had against the bastards. Kid’s Ash had known, and talked to, and been friends with… They’d all died.

He’d tried teachin’ ‘em what he figured out. Any new kids, he’d try getting a chance to talk to ‘em, tell ‘em what to do, how not to piss the costumers off, how to keep ‘em from getting too rough. Some of ‘em learned. Most of ‘em couldn’t handle it though. Most of ‘em were dead inside a few months.

Ash cried a lot about that. When they’d close down the club for the night, and he’d be locked in his room. He’d cry and hate himself. ‘Cause why couldn’t he help ‘em? A lot of those kids used to stick to him and follow him around, because after a while, Ash had been there longer than anyone else. He’d lasted longer. So they figured he knew how to keep alive, and they were so scared and didn’t know what to do. Most of ‘em were the same age as him. Some older, some younger. But only by maybe a year. Ash would tell ‘em he was scared too, but they couldn’t show it. Don’t show it, he’d tell ‘em. They looked at him with all this trust, like he could save ‘em or somethin’. And he tried. He wanted to. But he never could. Some of ‘em died from takin too bad a beating. Some of ‘em died ‘cause they just gave up. They just wasted away. No more fight left to give. 

Ash still cries sometimes, when he thinks of those other kids. When he thinks how he couldn’t help ‘em. 

Two years. That’s how long Ash had been there. Two years, before Papa Dino decided he was too good looking to use on the general cliental. He started using Ash as his personal sex toy after that, sometimes renting him out to anyone willing to pay high enough dollar for him. The price kept going up, until it was like now, just down to two or three rich fuckers willing to shell out for him. 

Dino raped him plenty of times before that. But when he started getting possessive, that’s when he pulled Ash from the general floor of his club. Ash was still featured in their catalog, but the price was too high. Most weren’t willing to pay it.

Out here on the streets though, Ash charged ten bucks for a blowie. Twenty for actual sex. Prices varied depending on what a John asked him to do, but it was always somewhere in that range. 

Dino had started using him to run jobs for him in the last, few months. He’d introduced him to some other kids that were part of a gang, and he was to work with them to do these jobs. Drug pick-ups and drop offs, mostly. But last month, he’d… he’d ordered Ash to kill a guy.

Ash had flat out refused, and Dino had beaten him almost to death for it. Ash swore, he thought he was gonna die. Then he’d said he was going to send him back to work at the club, and said he’d go find his father in Cape Cod and kill him too if he said no again.

So Ash had done it. Him and another kid named Alex. Alex kept watch while Ash did the shooting. Dino ordered it that way. He wanted Ash to pull the trigger. It fucked him up. He couldn’t stop seeing the guys face. The scared look in his eyes. He kept dreaming about it. Kept thinking somebody, somewhere, was missing the guy now. And it was his fault. 

Ash had told him sorry before blowing him away, like it would make any difference. It wasn’t right. Ash couldn’t make it right. It was all so fucked. It made him feel like a piece of shit, and he’d cried afterwards. Couldn’t stop shakin’. The other kid, Alex, had asked him what was wrong, and Ash couldn’t answer with anything. He didn’t know what to say. He still doesn’t. Second guy he’d killed… 

He doesn’t… he can’t think about the first. He can’t…

He hopes Dino doesn’t ask him to do it again, but he knows he will. 

Dino had all kinds of kids like Alex running around, running jobs for him. They weren’t the same as the kids he had Marvin or Froggy round up for the club. Those were kids nobody was lookin’ for. Homeless kids.

Most of the kids that worked these jobs for Dino had homes and all. They had parents, or siblings. But they ran on the streets for whatever reason. Broken homes. Poor families. Parent’s that beat ‘em or whatever. Dino paid ‘em to run jobs and they were happy to do it. It was fast, easy cash, and a lot more than they’d make workin’ a regular job.

He didn’t pay Ash.

That’s why Ash started hookin’. Whatever money he got from the jobs, he had to give to Dino. The other kids had places to go home to at the end of the day, usually with a fat wad of cash to show for their trouble. Ash could go to Papa’s compound in New Jersey, but he didn’t want to. Unless he was ordered by Dino, he stayed away whenever he could. But he needed money to do it, and he only had one skill.

He hated it. But at least this way he got to choose who he had sex with. At least he got to decide what happened. Most of the time, anyway…

When Dino found out, he’d been mad. He’d beaten the shit out of Ash, and Ash thought he was gonna make him stop, and then he’d have no money of his own at all.

But then Dino had told him he could keep at it, long as Dino got a percentage. Ash had wanted to protest that, but it wouldn’t ‘a done any good, and just made Papa angrier. So he said fine, and Dino took like ten percent of whatever Ash managed to make in a night. 

The burning stench of cigar permeates the air now as Papa chews at its end, thick fingers twisting at it absently as he regards Ash with that critical eye that makes it hard for Ash not to squirm where he stands. Looking at him as though he were a piece of meat for inspection. 

Ash’s head spins with the smell. He hates it. He hates that smell so much.

He holds his hands out. They’re shaking. He can’t stop them. His haul from last night sits crumpled and dirty in his palms. Thirteen dollars and twenty-seven cents.

“And what am I supposed to do with _that_ , Ash?” Dino’s voice drawls, bored. Unimpressed.

“I, uh… I-I don’t…”

“ _Diction_ Ash. Speak up. Make yourself clear. What have I been paying your diction coach for, do you think? So I can sit here and watch you mumble and murmur to yourself like some form of feckless urchin?”

Ash feels his face burn, his hands sinking down, fingers trembling as they curl over the bills.

Marvin snickers at his back.

“I… I got b-beat…”

“ _Ash_ …” Dino’s voice is heavy with warning, and Ash’s knees feel weak.

He swallows. His mouth is dry as dust, and it makes it hard.

“I w-was beaten up, last night. By one of my… my Johns. I didn’t… feel like trickin’ no more… I… I mean, anymore, after that. So… all I have is… is this.”

“Mmm. I see. Maybe a little more than this? Marvin tells me you, hmm… indulged a bit. He tells me he found you with… What was it again Marvin?”

“Pack ‘a Twinkies and a Coke. Some kinda nasty candy too, called Neco’s. Pure sugar, Papa.”

“Yes. Sugary drinks and confections. You know the rules Ash. I needn’t repeat them, I think. You are, after all, a very smart boy.”

Ash stares down at the carpet beneath his feet. The swirling, intricate designs bleed all together. He’s dizzy again. His stomach turns and flips. Pain like fingers squeezing his innards makes him nauseas. His lips feel numb when he speaks.

“Yes, Papa Dino.”

“And what is the punishment, for breaking this particular rule, Ash?”

“No… no food for however long you deem fit.”

“Yes. Very good, darling. You’ll stay here some days then. Maybe a full week. You’ll eat when I say you can. I have a job for you. The details can wait. For now, come here. I need to look at you. You look obscene from where I sit.”

Ash thinks about telling Dino that _he’s_ the obscene one. But that’d just earn him a slap in the mouth, and worse. So he swallows it down, stuffing his meager earnings back into his pockets and willing his legs to work as he steps towards where Papa sits.

Dino’s hands on him make it hard to stand still. Ash keeps his gaze fixed on the wall, forcing himself not to pull away like he wants to. He wants to slap Dino’s hands off him. Wants to scream, tell him to get the fuck away. Get _away_.

“Where are the clothes I gave you? These certainly aren’t them.”

Ash had dumped those at a goodwill store soon as he’d gotten the chance. If he tells Dino that, he’s gonna get slapped though. He tries to think of some lie, but his brain isn’t comin’ up with nothin’. So he doesn’t say anything. 

Dino’s expression turns ugly.

“Idiot boy. Marvin, bring me a pair of scissors. Make sure they’re sharp.”

Ash’s heart kicks sick in his chest. His mouth falls open to protest, but he doesn’t even know what he’s protesting against. He doesn’t know what Papa’s gonna do. He’s shaking again. He tries to stop it, but he can’t.

“Sure thing, Papa.”

Papa takes hold of Ashs’ face, forcing it to tilt aside. His eyes narrow, and Ash has to force himself to still.

“This cut is fresh. How did you get it?”  
Ash almost spits the truth. He can hear Marvin’s step falter a moment before continuing smoothly, and he makes himself swallow it down. He knew Dino’d be able to tell the cut wasn’t from last night. Dino wasn’t stupid. 

“I fell this morning when Marvin was getting me. I was dizzy and I fell.”

“I see.” Dino says. Ash can’t tell whether he believes the lie or not. Probably not. “You’ll have to be more careful Ash. I don’t want you scarring that perfect face of yours. Understand?”

Ash swallows, nodding weakly, and Dino lets his face go.

Dino grabs hold of his wrists next, jerking his hands up.

“Open.” He orders.

Ash uncurls his fingers. They’re stiff. It hurts. 

Bloody crescents stand stark against his palms. Dino’s mouth twists in displeasure at the sight, his grip tightening painfully over Ash’s wrists as he turns his hands over, glaring with the same, disgusted expression at his swollen and bruised knuckles. At the blood and dirt still caked under his nails. 

“Repulsive.” 

Marvin comes back with a pair of scissors. He hands them to Dino. Ash can see the fat fuck smirk at him out of the corner of his eye. 

A wave of dizziness slams into him. For a moment, he thinks he’ll lose his feet, scrunching his eyes shut as the world tilts.

He feels Dino’s fingers curl into the material of his hoodie, and then the sound of cutting fills the room, and Ash realizes what he’s doing.

He’s too shocked for a moment to even react. And then his resolve to keep still crumbles, and unthinkingly he tries to pull away.

Dino’s powerful hand falls across his mouth, thick fingers digging into his jaw and cheeks. Ash nearly whimpers with the pain, choking the sound back down his throat before it can escape. 

“Try that again, and I’ll break that lovely jaw of yours clean in half.”

Ash keeps still then, and Dino cuts his hoodie the rest of the way up the middle, and then the flimsy t-shirt beneath, pushing the ruined garments away and leaving Ash bare chested.

Dino isn’t done, and Ash feels his eyes burn, willing the tears back as Papa’s thick fingers undo the button of his jeans and pull down the fly. And then Dino stands, his large frame looming above Ash, blocking out the sun from the windows. His fingers slide around the waistband, dipping beneath it. He shoves the pants down, along with Ash’s underwear, down to his ankles.

“Step out.” 

Ash’s knees feel weak as he does as he’s told.

And then he’s standing naked in the middle of the room. 

Marvin’s still standing there at his side. Ash can feel his eyes on him. 

Dino makes a disapproving noise, and begins to circle round Ash, looking him over.

A swell of something awful unwinds in the pit of Ash’s stomach. 

He wants to scream and fight. He wants to take his fists and beat them against Dino’s and Marvin’s faces until they’re nothing but a bloody pulp. ‘Till they can’t move and they can’t do nothin’ to him anymore.

He wants to disappear. He wants to run away and hide where none of them will ever find him. 

He wants to go home. 

He wants his big brother. 

He wants his Mama. 

He wants…

Dino stops at his back. His heavy hand lands on Ash’s shoulder, squeezing.

“You were hit in the kidney. Have you noticed any blood in your urine?”

Ash fights to keeps his arms at his sides. 

Dino’s not asking ‘cause he cares. He’s asking ‘cause he needs to know if his toy’s gonna break.

“A… a little.” Ash answers. 

“I see. Any nausea? Vomiting?”

Ash nods.

“I’ll have a doctor over to look you over then. Now…”

Ash isn’t given any warning before Dino’s hand is between his legs, groping at his junk. His fingers are thick and warm and rough. Ash can feel the pad of his thumb slide down, slipping between his ass cheeks. And then he pushes his thumb up inside him. Ash can’t help it as his body goes stiff. He jerks, nearly stumbling away. A broken noise catches in his throat, and Ash bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste blood. 

He can hear Marvin’s breathing grow heavier. His stomach churns and squeezes. He can’t throw up here. Dino’ll kill him if he throws up on this Persian rug. 

“Lovely.” Dino’s hot breathe breathes against his ear. “I’d love to work just your prostate until you’ve come undone at the seams. A gasping, helpless mess of a child begging for release. Until you come untouched, long and hard. Would you like that, Ash? Hmm?”

Dino’s thumb pushes up deeper into him, brushing his prostate, and Ash grits his teeth against the spread of warmth through his belly.

His eyes burn.

Not this. Not here, in front of Marvin. Not like this.

His legs quiver beneath him, his voice shaking as he forces it out.

“No! F-fuck off!” 

It’s a mistake. He knows it is even before he says it. He doesn’t care. He can’t handle this. Not after Marvin earlier. Not so soon after, out here where anyone can walk in and see…

Dino’s hand pulls away, and Ash knows there’s no time for relief. He tries to brace for the blow, but it doesn’t really work. Papa’s iron hand comes back against his mouth, hard enough to knock Ash off his feet. 

For a moment, Ash can’t see straight, everything going round too fast, and he doesn’t have a chance to make it stop before Dino leans down across him, slaps him hard against the mouth again. There’s copper on his tongue and the world’s all wrong around him.

And then he’s being yanked up off the floor by his arm, so hard and fast it feels like his shoulders gonna pop from its joint.

“Take him to my room Marvin. Lock him in.”

No, Ash thinks desperately. Not again. Not so soon after. Please, he can’t…

Oh God… oh God, he made a mistake. He made a mistake.

He tries to say he’s sorry, but it’s too late.

“Sure thing, Papa.” 

Marvin’s got him again. He’s lifting him up and throwing him over his shoulder. The blood rushes too fast to Ash’s head, and everything goes black. He thinks he says something. He hears a weak sound, and he thinks it’s him. 

Marvin’s laughing and it’s too late.

It’s too late…

It’s too late…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everybody! Once more I have to give my heartfelt thanks to everyone who's read and supported my story thus far! You guys are amazing, and I appreciate your readership so, so much! Please let me know what you think! Reviews mean so much to me.

Ash screams.

He screams and he screams. He bangs on the walls, bangs on the door. Nobody hears him.

Nobodies listening.

He almost tears the room apart.

His fingers curl into the silk comforter of the bed until his knuckles bleed out. He rips it from the mattress, brings it to his face and stuffs it in his mouth and screams around it. Screams until he can’t breathe and his face is burning red. Until his eyes fill with tears and his lungs are on fire, his throat torn raw. 

He tears his hair until it rips free from his scalp.

He hugs the pillow to his chest, presses his face against it and screams again, nothing but a muffled, useless noise. Rage, rage, rage, and then his screams break apart, and he’s sobbing and he can’t stop.

He’s on the floor, and he can’t stop, this noise as useless as all the rest.

Why? Why? Why? Why? _Why_?!

He wishes he would fall asleep and never wake up. He wishes…

But wishes were useless too. Wishes were for fuckin’ _babies_. They never came true. They never helped nobody. 

“Stop cryin’, y-you stupid baby. St-stop cryin’.” 

He wants to stop. He can’t stand any of this anymore. He wants to stop but he can’t. 

Dino’s hands… Marvin’s hands… Dino’s tongue in his mouth… The stench of his cigar and cologne filling his nostrils, his hard, mean face right there, right above him, dead, blank eyes, like lookin’ into nothing, and he won’t let Ash look away. Tells Ash to look at him while he fucks him. His hand pressing down on Ash’s stomach, pressing down on his bladder, ‘till Ash pisses blood and cries out and tries to look away, and Dino’s hand wrenches him by the jaw, back to look at him, and Dino’s grinning and telling him he’s his. 

He can feel ‘em on him still. He can feel ‘em all over. Hands between his legs, cocks pushing inside him…

All of them… they’re… they’re all the fuckin’ same…. And it doesn’t matter how hard he scrubs himself in the shower… how hard he tries to forget… doesn’t never matter… can’t ever get rid of the feel of ‘em. 

Can’t ever get rid of the feel of ‘em inside him… Pushing and pulling and sliding inside him and he feels sick. 

He feels sick… God… he feels sick.

“Griff… please…”

Wishes were for stupid babies.

Can’t help it no how.

//

He hates this place.

He hates it so fuckin’ much.

The doctor’d just left. Checked him out. Said Ash had a badly bruised kidney, but that’s all. Nothin’ to worry about. Told him to be careful about taking any more shots there. Ash had almost laughed at that. Wanted to ask the doc how the hell he’s supposed to avoid that. Wanted to ask him if there was anythin’ else he thought was of _concern_ , but he was Dino’s doc. He knew what the hell was happening and he wasn’t gonna do shit. Money was too good, after all.

He’s sitting on the bed, lookin’ out the big, floor to ceiling windows, at the perfect manicured lawns that stretch on and on, lush and bright. Not a fuckin’ blade out of place. Beds of flowers dotting the landscape in purposefully designed symmetry, all as equally well maintained and shaped. The scent of fresh cut grass sits heavy in the air. It’s quiet except for the birds twittering in the trees and, if you went outside, you’d hear the gurgle and splash of that big, fancy fountain that sits in the center of the veranda that stretches the length of the whole back of the house. 

Peaceful, would be the first impression anyone would have.

It was all such a fuckin’ lie. 

The whole property’s surrounded by fifteen foot high wrought iron gates which are impossible to climb. Even if you somehow managed to get yourself to the top, the entire length of each side is lined with ten inch spikes that you’d fuckin’ impale yourself on if you even tried climbing over. And if that shit didn’t kill you, the fifteen foot drop just might.

And if that didn’t kill you still, any of the twenty armed guards patrolling the entire area at any given time could just shoot you in the back while you were tryin’ to run away.

It’s a god damned fucking prison.

All the pretty perfection and luxury and wealth on display, all those expensive imports and furnishings and tasteful design, all any of it is, is a mask, a fuckin’ façade to cover up the stinking rot within. 

It makes Ash sick. Makes him dizzy with disgust and rage. 

He’d tried running away once. When he’d first been caught. One of the first times Dino had decided to keep him for himself over a weekend. He’d been ten. He’d tried running away. Hadn’t even made it to the gate before one of the security guards had picked him up. The bastard had brought him right to Dino, and Dino had made him pay by slapping him around some and making sure it hurt even worse when he’d raped him that night.

Ash draws his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and laying his head on his knees.

He hasn’t eaten anything in two days. 

Every time he stands up, he gets hit with these awful rushes, his vision going black. He fell earlier today. Worst part of that was it happened in front of Dino. Dino just stared at him with nothing in his expression, before asking Ash if he had learned his lesson yet about eating sweets. Ash had wanted to tell him fuck you, but had chickened out and only nodded. 

Dino still hadn’t let him eat nothin’. 

He’s got him in one of his monkey suits again. Fuckin’ white button down shirt that musta’ cost five hundred bucks, and a pair of fancy suit slacks that probably cost even more. Fancy fuckin’ shoes and socks and it’s all such fuckin’ bullshit. 

Dino told him he was havin’ one of his politician buddies over in the evening, and he expected Ash to be on his “best behavior”. Whatever. He was being used as bait, as usual. Dino was gonna introduce him like he always did, as one of the “disadvantaged youths” he was helping to get back on his feet. Then Ash was gonna have to have dinner with them, and Dino would watch whoever this asshole was to see if he showed any interest in Ash, and if he did, Dino would set up a situation between them at Club Cod, this one on the house. Ash was the bribe. The extra incentive thrown in to sweeten the pot of whatever deal they had going. That was also how Papa got leverage, in case one of his partners decided to bail on an agreement. He’d film the fuckin’ perverts having sex with underaged boys and threaten to make it public if they tried to back out. 

Whoever the fucker was, he must have been an important one. Otherwise, Dino’d just use one of the kids at the club, probably. He only used Ash for the ones he had to have, these days. And for whoever was willing to pay. 

Fuck… this must be the job Dino had told him about when he’d arrived.

He doesn’t wanna go and have dinner with a couple of ol’ fucking pervs. He doesn’t wanna have sex with whoever the fuck this asshole is. He doesn’t want to go to Club Cod. He doesn’t… God, he doesn’t…

He doesn’t realize he’s gripping his head hard until the pain hits him, his nails digging into his scalp. 

He loosens them slowly, the joints stiff. 

… He could try running away. 

What would the punishment be this time when he got caught? There wasn’t no way he would actually make it. Even if he somehow managed to escape the compound, Dino’d hunt him down, out there on the streets. And he’d just be more pissed once he found him.

He’d probably end up getting shot to death. 

Maybe… maybe that would be better. Than this. Maybe that would be.

But what if Dino decided to go after his Dad instead? What if…

Ash shakes his head. 

He couldn’t allow that.

He knows his pops doesn’t love him, but… 

That didn’t mean he deserved to be caught up in all this mess. 

He couldn’t risk that. ‘Specially since it wouldn’t work no how. 

Just had to… just had to deal with it then, he guesses. 

Lying down on the bed, Ash curls onto his side, arms wrapped around himself. He keeps his back to door, eyes fixed on the wall. 

Just had to deal with it…

//

Ash’s hands are trembling.

He holds them in his lap underneath the table, squeezing them together.

There’s a huge spread of food laid out on the table in front of him. All kinds of fancy stuff, sitting displayed on high end silver platters and expensive china. Crab and lobster and steak and all sorts of other things Ash doesn’t even got a name for. Dino told him it was alright to eat whatever he wanted now. Ash’s stomach feels tight with hunger, and he’d thought earlier he’d want something. But his apatite is gone.

Papa and this new asshole, Senator Kippard or whatever his name is, are talking about him like he isn’t sitting right there in front of them.

To them, it’s like he doesn’t even exist. Or like he doesn’t got ears to hear ‘em with. Like they can say whatever the hell they want about him, right in front of him, because he ain’t got enough thought in his head to understand what they’re saying anyway. Or because it just doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.

“He’s our most exclusive piece. Normally, the price is three hundred an hour, or, if you want him an entire night, we offer a marginally discounted flat fee of twenty-five hundred. But, of course for you, Senator, a full night with him, cost free. Just name the time and date, and I’ll have my assistant set it up for you.”

The new asshole, Kippard, turns and looks at Ash, his face open with slack jawed lust. Ash had known he was screwed the moment he’d been summoned to the dining room earlier, and he’d seen the way this fuckin’ perv looked at him. There wasn’t no way he was gonna turn Dino’s offer down.

“He isn’t going to give me trouble like that last one, is he? The little bastard left a scratch on my face. I had to come up with some ridiculous excuse to explain it away to my staffers and wife.”

Dino laughs, and Ash wants to bury a knife in his fuckin’ eye. He wants to kill the both of ‘em. He wants to fuckin’ tear their throats out.

“I assure you, Senator, in this case, the price reflects the quality. Ash is well worth your time and trouble. You won’t find another experience like the one he can offer to you. He’s vastly more experienced than any of our other selections, and, very obviously, much more beautiful. Beyond that, I think you’ll find Ash is always on his best behavior. Isn’t that right, Ash?”

Dino’s sharp eyes shift to him, the warning clear.

Ash’s hands shake harder.

“Y-yes, Papa Dino.”

Dino’s lips curl back in a smile, eyes still heavy on him.

“You’ll find as well, Senator, that Ash has more breeding than what you’re used to. Ash, demonstrate for us the refinement of your pallet. Tell us the ingredients of your wine.”

Ash feels his heart kick uncomfortably in his chest.

He ain’t any good at this yet. 

Dino’d just started him on lessons from some wine expert like a month ago. Ash hated the fuckin’ taste of wine, but Dino said he had to be versed in all the different kinds. Ash doesn’t know what the hell for, but he isn’t stupid enough to ask. He guesses for shit like this. So he can impress his pervert friends with how well trained his toy is.

Ash swallows.

If he fucks this up, Dino’ll be pissed.

His hands still won’t stop shakin’.

He loosens them from around each other, lifts one to grab the glass sitting in front of him.

His hand smacks into the bowl of the glass, knocking it over.

Red instantly bleeds across the pristine white of the tablecloth, staining it, soaking underneath plates and trays, splashing over food. Ash watches the food grow soggy and ruined, and he feels his mouth go dry with horror, his stomach turning in on itself.

No… oh God…

His eyes lift to Dino.

Dino’s eyes are fixed on the spreading discoloration over the top of the tablecloth, his face a flat mask. His eyes are black with hate.

They shift up to Ash.

“I’m sorry!” Ash blurts. “I… I’m sorry!”

Dino smiles, hard and mean.

“See, Senator? What did I say about breeding? Very polite, Ash. Very good.”

Kippard laughs, and Ash feels sick again. He’s dizzy. He feels sick. His eyes burn. They burn, and his throat is too tight and he can’t swallow. 

“I’m sorry.” He says again, and he hates how small his voice sounds. He hates how young he sounds. How scared. You weren’t… weren’t ever supposed to show ‘em you were scared. It just… just made it worse, if you showed ‘em. But with Dino…

“Yes Ash. I’m sure you will be.” 

Things blank out for a minute.

Dino keeps talking. Kippard’s talking. Ash can’t hear any of it. 

He feels like he can’t get a real breath, his chest like it’s being crushed or something. He reaches up a shaking hand, grasping at the front of his shirt. He tears at it, panic overwhelming any thought. He isn’t thinking. Doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he feels a crushing grip clamp over his wrist, tearing his hand away from his chest.

“Idiot boy! Get up!”

Dino has hold of him, and Ash nearly attempts to pull away. One look at Papa’s face though, and the instinct dies. He falls limp as he’s lifted bodily up from his chair. The grip on his wrist is painful, and Ash fights not to whimper as the pressure grows, threatening to break the thin bones.

“You’ll forgive the disruption caused by the boy’s clumsiness. I assure you, Senator, if you’re still interested in my offer, Ash will be much better composed for your appointment.”

“Yes, I’m still interested.” Kippard’s voice is thick with amusement. “I’d love to see what he can do. But I’ve got to say, Monsieur Golzine, given your buildup, I’ll be expecting a lot. I hope he doesn’t disappoint. Right now, he seems to be conducting himself the same as any common street trash would. Though, you’re right, he is very beautiful.”

“Again, you have my assurance Senator. Ash will be on his best behavior with you. If not, you can have your pick of any of our other selection, fully compensated, of course.”

“Of course.” Kippard smiles at Ash, that same, possessive look coming into his eyes that they all got when they looked at him. Ash wants to spit in his fat fucking face. “Can I take a closer look?”

No, Ash thinks. He doesn’t want this bastards hands on him. He doesn’t want him looking at him. Inspecting him like a piece of meat. He doesn’t…

“Of course.” Dino answers. “Ash, go to him. Let him look at you.”

Dino’s grip around his wrist loosens, letting him go, and for a moment, Ash just stands there. He doesn’t wanna go. He doesn’t wanna go over there. But he knows he has to. Damn it… God damn it…

He hears Dino shift behind him, and Ash knows he’s out of time.

He stumbles forward, until he’s standing in front of Kippard. Ash’s skin feels like it’s crawlin’ all over with bugs as the asshole’s hands reach out, grabbing hold of him by the arms and tugging him closer.

Ash doesn’t look at him.

Kippard’s hands run up and down his arms, sliding up to his shoulders and massaging him through the material of his shirt.

Ash swallows, the taste of bile at the back of his throat.

He wants the bastard’s hands off him. He wants them off. But he can feel Papa Dino’s heavy gaze on his back, and he knows if he pulls away, or hits the pervs hands off, he’ll be in even bigger trouble than he already is. So he stands as still as he can while he gets felt up. His eyes burn, and he blinks rapidly against it.

It’s harder when Kippard’s hand moves to his face, tipping Ash’s head back. His fat finger runs over Ash’s lips, prodding at them, and Ash knows what the asshole wants. He can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut for a moment.

It never stopped.

His lips feel numb as he lets them drift apart, and Kippard’s finger slips inside his mouth. Ash fights not to be sick as the bastard slides it around. He pushes another finger in, his other hand resting on Ash’s hip.

And then Kippard pulls his hand away from his mouth, and Ash isn’t given any relief, the same hand dipping past where Ash had torn his shirt open earlier, Kippard’s fat, wet fingers trailing over his chest, over his nipple.

Ash stands stock still as Kippard rolls and squeezes it between his fingers, the world tilting. He’s dizzy again. He knows… he knows he needs to act like he’s into it. He needs to, but he… oh God, he just wants to go. He just wants to get away from here.

He almost sobs in relief when Kippard pulls his hands away, letting Ash go.

“Oh, he’s lovely Monsieur Golzine. How about we set something up for tomorrow evening?”

“Splendid Senator. Ash, you may go now.”

Ash stumbles from the room as quickly as he can.

Halfway down the hall from the dining room, his knees give out and he falls. He lifts his hand, pressing it against his mouth. There’s something awful trying to claw its way up his throat. He tries swallowing it down and a thin whine slips past his lips, muffled by the press of his palm. His eyes burn, and then his vision blurs. Wet, warm tears slide down his face.

He can’t stay here.

If Papa finds him out here like this, it’ll… it’ll just make it worse. Whatever was gonna happen now, after he’d fucked up in there… if Papa finds him like this, it’ll just make it worse.

Ash gropes along the floor until his fingers smack against the molding running the length of the wall. He slides his hand up it, using it to support himself as he pushes himself back to his feet. 

Another wave of dizziness threatens to put him back down, and Ash leans heavily against the wall. He stands there for a moment, breathing hard.

He needed to get somewhere.

His room, maybe. Or out in the yard. Just somewhere else.

He’ll… he’ll worry about the rest of it later. Just had to get somewhere else.

He wipes at his eyes, sucking in a shuddering breath. 

He keeps to the wall as he continues back down the hallway.

Can’t worry about that other stuff right now… just had to get somewhere else…


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my thanks once again to everyone who reads and leaves comments! You guys are amazing and such an inspiration! Thank you so much again! Just a warning about this chapter, it does deal in pretty good detail with the subject of underage, underground sex prostitution.

The smell hits Ash first.

It’s always the smell of the place that stays with him the worst. That he can’t ever forget. That cloying, sweet incent smell they spray all over, tryin’ to cover over the heavy musk of sex and sweat and piss and blood. Just makes it worse. Makes the smell stick in your nose and on the back of your tongue so you can fuckin’ taste it.

Just like the restaurant up top is supposed to act as a front to the real business below. Covering over with a respectable, fashionable facade the fucked up, rotten core at its heart. Just like Papa Dino’s big, fancy mansion. 

Underneath Club Cod is a child sex trafficking ring. A fuckin’ brothel, where all the whores are little boys, between the ages of 9 and 15. 

The place is a prison, designed to entice and lure all the world’s perverts to try out its offered selection of merchandise. 

The entrance, when you reached the bottom of the stairs that led up to the restaurant, was open and brightly lit. That’s where the clients came to sign in and choose whichever kid they wanted. They’d give you a fuckin’ catalog which had the boys listed like items on a menu, giving you their age and physical description and their price. There was always a picture included so you could see what the kid looked like before choosing. It went from cheapest to most expensive, front to back. The least attractive kids were cheapest, though none of the kids at Club Cod were really bad lookin’. Papa Dino wouldn’t allow any kids who were really ugly. The better lookin’ you got though, the farther back in the catalog you’d be. Kids with blonde hair and white skin were top prize. The fairer the skin and hair, the more the price went up. Blue eyes were good, but green eyes were even better, since green was rarest. That put Ash on the very last page. He had all that shit that Papa Dino prized most. Milky white skin and light blonde hair and light green eyes and a beautiful fuckin’ face. 

Ash wishes he’d been born ugly. Maybe if he’d been born ugly, none of this ever would’ve happened.

Once you moved past the entrance, it became a maze of halls which all looked the same. Those halls were lined on either side with sturdy built doors, spaced every ten feet or so. Those doors led to the rooms they kept the kids locked in. The rooms were somethin’ like 10 foot by six foot, with a single bed to each room. They locked from the outside by electronic keypads, so once you were in, you couldn’t get out unless someone let you out. There weren’t any windows or anything like that either, ‘cept the ones on the doors, which you could only look through by sliding back the little hatch which covered ‘em from the outside. Being in there like that made it basically impossible to keep track of the time. The only way you really knew what time it was, was when they’d do lights out for the night, closing the club down. That usually happened ‘round four or five in the morning. Then it stayed shut down until early evening the next day. They didn’t let the kids outta the rooms ‘cept to use the bathroom or for medical checkups or whatever. Otherwise you were in your room all the time. You ate in there. You slept in there. Sometimes they’d let you out to walk around the hallways and shit, and that’s when Ash would try and talk to the other kids. Try and help ‘em if he could. But there wasn’t ever much time. They liked to keep the kids separated as much as possible, so they wouldn’t get no ideas.

The whole place was set up to keep the kids disoriented and confused like that, down to the way they did the lights even.

The lighting was always kept low, overhead tracking bleeding weakly through red paper coverings to cast an orange, dusky hue through the hallways and rooms. It makes you feel like you’re in some kinda’ surreal dreamscape, everything in front of you cast into fuzzy, soft edges, like nothin’s quite real. Like you’re under water, lookin’ through a murky lens, and everything around you’s filled with debris that makes it impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction. Low lighting makes people want to stay longer too. That’s also why they had it set up like that. It lulls ‘em into a lazy, sleepy state. The longer the clients stay, the more money they spend. The whole, surreal scape of it’s made worse still by the thick smoke that hangs in the air, filtering from the rooms and people loitering in the halls. Puffing away on their cigars and cigarettes and joints. There ain’t nowhere for it to escape into, so it just sits and hangs there all day and night. You stand in those hallways too long, and you’re gonna get high or sick from the residual effect of it. 

Doesn’t matter for the kids either way, even if they had a proper filtration system. They keep ‘em doped up on morphine anyway, to keep ‘em more pliable and easy to control. Less likely to try and escape.

Ash remembers he’d managed to convince the assholes that ran the place he didn’t need it after about a year, ‘cause he was getting such good marks with the clients and all, and he told ‘em he could do even better if he wasn’t so fuckin’ high all the time. Comin’ off that stuff had been hell. He’d tried escaping not too long after he’d recovered, and they’d put him right back on, following a fuckin’ bad beating.

Ash hated the fuckin’ stuff. Made you so god damned loopy and weak, and half the time you couldn’t even remember where the hell you were. It was worse than being drunk. 

He doesn’t want to be back here. God, he hates it. He _hates_ it.

Marvin’s ahead of him, leading him down the stairs, and Ash has to fight to keep himself upright. He feels faint. Like he’s gonna pass out or something. 

Doesn’t help that Dino made him suck him off earlier this morning as punishment for messin’ up at dinner last night. Made him swallow his cum and everything, and Ash can still fuckin’ taste it.

That bastard senator had set up a time for around 8:30 in the evening here, and Ash was supposed to wait for him to show, back in the old room they used to keep him in before Dino got possessive.

Ash just wants it to be over. Dino said he could go back out on the streets after this. He had a couple of drug runs he wanted Ash to do. Wanted him to meet up again with that kid Alex in a couple days. Him and a few others, down at Pier 12, on the East Side docks. But otherwise, he’d be on his own again.

“Hurry your skinny ass up!” Marvin snaps at him.

Ash shakes his head.

He’d spaced out on the stairs landing, and sees Marvin glaring down at him. They’re standing in the entry to the brothel. Ash hasn’t been back here in a few months. He swallows, tryin’ not to think too much about it.

One job, and then he could go. That was it.

He follows Marvin to the front desk, keeping his face down and his arms wrapped tight around himself. Everyone’s already lookin’ at him. All the bastards that run the place and some bozos he doesn’t recognize. Clients, probably. They’re probably thinkin’ they want to take him, but once they see the price, they’ll probably forget it. God, he hopes…

“Hey Reggie, how’s biz?” Marvin starts talking to guy up front, manning the desk. 

“Same as every day. Whatch’u think? Got a new group in yesterday from Frog. Whiny little fucks don’t know to get with program yet. Ya dig? Had to beat one of the little shits all black and blue ‘for he’d shut up, he was screamin’ and cryin’ so much. Little cunt ain’t gonna be any good for a couple days. Probly won’t last out the month.”

Marvin says something back, but Ash tunes them out.

He doesn’t want to hear this. God…

He’s already thinking about walking down that hallway leading to that room near the back. Walking past all those doors, knowin’ what’s goin’ on behind ‘em. He feels sick thinkin’ about it.

One job. That’s all he had to get through, and then he could go. 

“I’m checkin’ this little bastard in. He’s due for an 8:30 with that hot shot Senator that’s been comin’ round lately. Kippard or whatever his name is.”

“Yeah, I got that down in the books. Ain’t seen him in a minute.” Reggie nods towards Ash.

Ash glares back at the bastard.

He fuckin’ hated Reggie. He hated every adult who worked in the place. They were all a bunch of fuckin’ pervs and assholes. Used to be Reggie that beat on him the most, in the beginning, when he’d piss a client off. Sometimes not even for that. Just ‘cause he felt like it. The fuck was a sadistic piece of shit. Just like fuckin’ Marvin too. Like all of ‘em.

“You know how it is. Papa’s takin’ a fancy to him. Don’t know why the fuck. Little shit’s more trouble than he’s worth. Anyway, this senator’s supposed to get to have him the whole night if he wants. After that, you let him go.”

“What if someone else wants to rent him out?” 

“Hey, if they’re willin’ to pay, then they’re willin’ to pay.” Marvin shrugs. “But only after this senator guy’s through with him. Here’s his gun. Give it back to him when he’s through.”

Ash looks away, staring down at his shoes. 

Papa gave him some new shit to wear. Nothin’ fancy. Just a button down and slacks and some new sneakers. 

Ash’s is gonna dump ‘em soon as he gets the chance. He’ll pick somethin’ up at the Salvation Army. He should still have enough left from what he made a few nights ago, since Dino didn’t take none of it this time. He’ll get back out there on the street and make some more later. Tomorrow night. Can pick up some food too. He’d barely been able to eat during the dinner last night, and he only had half a bagel this morning. He’s hungry, but he can worry about that later. Then, maybe if he makes enough, he’ll be able to rent a room for the night. Or if not, he can try gettin’ into one of the shelters early. 

That kid, Alex, had offered to let him stay at his place the last time they worked together. But Ash didn’t know him. He couldn’t trust it. 

“Right, well, I’ll take him back. See ya around Marvin.”

Marvin goes, and Ash is glad of it. But then Reggie’s got him by the arm and is dragging him to the back rooms. Ash almost trips over his own feet, he’s being dragged so fast.

“Think your special now, huh? ‘Cause Golzine’s got you as his personal pet? Hope you don’t think that means you’re gonna get special treatment, ‘cause you aint.”

Ash doesn’t bother answering. Anything he says, Reggie’ll just use it as an excuse to hit him.

That sick sweet smell tryin’ to cover up the filth of the place gets stronger the farther back you go, and Ash presses the back of his hand against his mouth and nose. The doors seem to loom around him, and Ash tries to keep his eyes away from them. You can’t hear nothin’, ‘cause the rooms are soundproof. But that doesn’t help. He hates this fuckin’ place. 

Just one job, and then he’s gone. Please, please don’t let nobody else rent him.

“Smug little fuck.” Reggie mutters when finally they reach the end of the hallway. “Alright, get in and don’t make no trouble. You do, you’ll be sorry.”

Reggie punches in the code to unlock the door, and then he shoves Ash inside, slamming it shut without another word. He can hear the electronic lock slide into place.

The room is exactly like last time he was here. The bed’s made, and on the table next to it, there’s a bunch of new, unopened products. Fuckin’ lube and condoms and shit. Not that any of these bastards ever really used the stuff. He doubts this freak show senator’s gonna be any different.

There’s a hard bang against the wall to his right, and Ash can’t keep himself from flinching back at the loud noise.

He squeezes his eyes shut, hands lifting and tangling in his hair, tugging at it hard.

Damn it…

_Don’t think about it, fuck… there’s nothin’ you can do_. 

And there wasn’t. He knew that, logically. The cop’s couldn’t help. He’d been picked up plenty enough by ‘em while workin’ the streets, and they wouldn’t ever listen to him no how. They were all on Dino’s fuckin’ payroll anyway. Anything he tried to tell ‘em would just get squashed, and then Dino’d find out about it, and make him pay. Would probably kill him. And cop’s had never… never helped anyhow. They didn’t never help. He knew that straight. 

Wasn’t anybody else who would either. Wasn’t nobody.

Just… just one job, he tells himself, and then he got to go. He got to go…


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, all my deepest thanks to everyone who's read and/or left comments and kudos! Please leave comments if you have a chance, as they help immensely to help me keep going!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include depictions of underage prostitution and violence.

Ash wraps an arm around himself, keeping his head bent as he pushes down the sidewalk. He sniffles against the sharp bite of cold air whipping into his face, and thinks maybe he shoulda’ picked up a warmer jacket when he’d gone shopping earlier. The hell was up with this cold ass weather anyway? It was still technically summer, but it’d been nasty out here the last few weeks. Raining constantly, the humidity putting a chill in the air that reached down into your bones. Least, that’s how it felt to him. 

He sniffles again, bringing a sleeve up to his nose and wiping at it. His cigarette trembles between his fingers, and he struggles to get it between his lips, his hands shakin’ so bad. He manages it on the third try, liking the way the smoke burns down his lungs. Least it’s warm.

It’s takin’ too long to make it to his spot. 

Fuckin’ creep Kippard had been rough. Smacked Ash around and then tore him up good all last night. Bastard must of fucked him three or four times before he got sick of it. Ash can’t remember too well the number. He’d tried zoning out as much as he could. Either way, it’d left him with a limp, pain shooting up his backside like fire every time he took a step.

Doesn’t know how he’s gonna work tonight like this, but he’s gotta manage. Maybe just blowies. If he does enough of ‘em, it should get him enough dough to get a room for the night, and maybe a little food. He blew some of what he had left on his new clothes. 

He likes his sneakers though. Pretty nice pair of white Converse. They were a little big, but stayed on good enough. And only a little worn at the soles. They could probably use some better laces. But otherwise, pretty nice. Only about a buck too. They look cool, he thinks. Especially with the cool jean jacket he picked up. He likes to think he looks fly. But… probably shoulda’ got somethin’ warmer. Shit. Maybe he’ll make enough to get a winter coat or somethin’ later. 

West 42nd Street’s seedy as hell. They call this whole area the Deuce. The sidewalks are piled high with trash and old junk that people have just left lyin’ out, fuckin’ used needles and rubbish littering the gutters, and all along the street are peep shows, porno theaters, sex shops and pimps. The pimps constantly call out to him as he moves past ‘em, askin’ what he’s doin’ up past his bed time, askin’ him if he’s lost. Shit like that. A lot of ‘em think he’s a little girl and try to snatch him up. They back off when he takes his gun out. There’s all kinds ‘a crack addicts just lyin’ around too, lookin’ half dead. Homeless people passed out on the sidewalks. Drug dealers tryin’ to grab your attention as you walk past. Most of ‘em don’t got no drugs even. They wanna rob you, most likely. Ash keeps his eyes locked ahead, ignoring everyone. He can’t count the number of times he’s gotten grabbed by some ‘ol perv and dragged into alleys, fuckers sticking their hands down his pants, trying to shove their tongues down his throat. There were a lot of those bastards out here. Didn’t wanna pay, but were lookin’ for little kids to fuck. Ash had found that one out the hard way, when he’d had first gotten to New York. He’d wandered around, aimless and scared, and hadn’t known nothin’ about nothin’. He’d heard ‘a Times Square back in Cape Cod. Thought it was some place special, ‘cause it was famous. He’d found out from some random guy where it was and had somehow managed to make his way down here. He’d been eight, wanderin’ around this place. Lookin’ back, it ain’t even surprisin’ he’d gotten grabbed and almost raped that night. Guy’d grabbed him right off the sidewalk and dragged him into an alley, putting him face first up against the wall of one of the buildin’s they’d been sandwiched between, pinning him there as he’d started pulling his pants down, and all Ash could do was choke on his own gasps, too weak and afraid to do anythin’ else. The fuckin’ perv woulda’ raped him right then and there if Ash hadn’t ‘a been rescued by a transvestite prostitute. Man, Ash won’t never forget the way she beat the shit outta the dude who’d got hold of him. Ash had been so freaked out, he’d run away before he could even tell her thank you. He still thinks about her. Wonders what happened to her. He wishes he’d told her how grateful he was that night.

Well, anyway, Ash expected fuckers to grab him now, and he wasn’t so fuckin’ helpless anymore.

Up ahead, near the end of the block, he can see the corner he usually stands on, along with the group of women he shares it with. 

There’s the main girls. Suzy, a tall, good lookin’ black woman. She’s the one Ash talks to the most. Then there’s Caroline and Betty. They’re both farmgirls from somewhere in the Midwest. And Rose, another black girl, come up here from Florida. There’s other women, but they come and go and aren’t regulars or nothin’.

They let him stay when he first showed up, ‘cause he wasn’t really musclin’ in on their customers, considering he was a boy, and most of the guys interested in the women didn’t want nothin’ to do with him. 

He guesses they felt kinda’ sorry for him too, which they shouldn’t, but that’s how women got around him sometimes. Like they wanted to be his mother or somethin’. 

Suzy spots him as he comes limping up the block. A big grin breaks out across her face, and she waves, calling out.

“Hey suga’. I ain’t seen you in about a week. I was startin’ to get worried.”

Ash takes a drag off the last bit of his cigarette before tossing it on the ground, stomping it out with his heel as he reaches the corner.

“Hey Suzy.” Ash smiles up at the other hooker. “I’m alright. How’s it been goin’ out here?”

Suzy keeps smilin’.

“Oh, you know how it be suga’. We ain’t exactly livin’ the glam life. These John’s keep gettin’ nastier it seems.”

“You get a gun? I told you, you should get a gun for protection.” 

“Oh lord, listen to this child. What’s a little boy like you doin’ messin’ around with that sort of thing? ‘Sides, that’s what I got my man for.”

Ash hugs his arms around himself, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but for when you’re alone with a guy. Your pimp can’t help you if he ain’t in the room with you. You need a gun Suzy.”

“Well, I’ll think about it.” 

Her eyes move over Ash, and she tsks, shaking her head.

“Where you been boy? Really? I was worried one of these here perverts done went ahead and killed you. I see you got a bruise along that left eye ‘a yours. You get beat up?”

Ash shrugs, smiling up at the woman.

“A little. But I’m alright, really. Don’t worry about me Suzy.”

“Listen to this boy. Tellin’ me not ta’ worry ‘bout him. You worry ‘bout me Ash, and you just a little boy. I’m a grown woman. Been workin’ these streets a lot ‘a years. Tellin’ me ‘bout not worryin’. I know what it’s like out here.”

“I know you do.” Ash answers. “Women got it worse though than guys.”

“Yeah, but you just a little boy Ash. Ain’t nobody got it worse than kids like you.”

Ash looks away, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. He shrugs. 

“You shouldn’t even be out here workin’ these streets honey. You should be home, with your family.”

Ash shakes his head. He doesn’t wanna talk about this anymore.

“I ain’t got none.” 

“… I know.” Suzy’s voice is soft, like she feels sorry, and Ash has had enough.

“Well, get yourself a gun Suzy. If you want, I’ll show you how to work it. But I gotta get hustlin’. Gotta make some cash.”

“… Yeah. Okay hon. But listen here, you ain’t dressed right! You need you a warmer coat if you’re gonna be standin’ out here at night. How ‘bout, you show me how to use a gun, I’ll take you shoppin’ for somethin’ better?” 

Ash straightens, his hands coming up to grab at the collar of his jacket. He spins in a circle, showing off his new clothes, and he grins up at Suzy as he comes back round.

“But don’t I look cool though!? Don’t I look fly? Check out my kicks!”

Ash holds up his foot, turning it so she can see the Converse. He’s sure she’ll like ‘em. They look awful fly, he thinks.

Suzy smiles back, laughing.

“Those do look pretty fly hon. You always cool though. But it’s been cold out here late. You gotta get you a warmer jacket.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ash drops his foot back to the pavement, letting his arms swing down at this sides. “Alright. How ‘bout this? You get yourself a gun, I’ll let you help me find a warmer coat.”

Ash sticks his hand out, and Suzy laughs again, taking hold of it. She’s got big, strong hands, swallowing Ash’s up, but Ash gives hers a vigorous shake.

“It’s a deal!” He shouts.

Suzy keeps laughing, and the other women wander over.

“What’s a deal?” Betty asks. “Hey’a Ash.”

“Hey Betty. Hey everyone.” He nods up at the girls as they gather round.

They get to talkin’ for a while, but eventually everyone’s got to go back to workin’. 

Ash parks himself against a street lamp, wrapping his arms around himself and waiting.

After a while he shakes another cigarette from his pack, pulling it free with his lips. He made sure to get some matches this time. Still, it’s hard to keep the damn thing lit with the tough breeze, and it takes a couple tries to get the end going.

He don’t smoke often, but nights like this, it’s okay. 

Some of the women get picked up, and Ash’s been hanging ‘round ‘bout an hour before anyone shows any interest. 

Guy pulls up in a junky lookin’ Volks Wagon, rollin’ down the window and eyin’ Ash like he isn’t sure. 

Ash pushes off the street lamp and makes his way over.

“Hey baby,” he starts, leaning on the sill of his open window. “lookin’ for some action?”

The guy looks freaked out. Staring at Ash all wide eyed and sweaty. His eyes keep shiftin’ around like he’s afraid they’re bein’ watched, before comin’ back to Ash. He’s got that look like he wants to reach out and touch, but is too scared to make a move.

So, a newbie. 

“I… I don’t know.” He stammers, and Ash smiles.

This should be easy.

“I’m real good.” Ash tells him. “Ask anyone around, they’ll tell you. I’ll take you straight to heaven baby.”

He sees the guy swallow, his eyes get darker. He’s a fuckin’ perv. They all are though. 

“I… I’ve never done this before.” He stammers again.

“That’s okay baby.” Ash reaches into the car. He runs the pad of his thumb along the guys lower lip, watching as they come apart. He wants it bad. 

“Want a taste before you buy?” 

Ash leans further in and kisses the guy, slipping his tongue into his mouth. He tastes like spaghetti and meatballs, and Ash forces himself not to gag.

The guy moans, and when Ash pulls back, his expression’s changed into full blown lust. 

“Oh God…” he breathes. “H-how much?”

“Depends what you want sweetheart. Five bucks’ll get you a hand job. Ten for a blowie. I ain’t doin’ full penetration tonight, but I’ll finger you for fifteen. What do ya say?”

The guy wants a blowie. Ash was hopin’ he could get away with just the hand job, but he ain’t gonna complain. 

“Just drive ‘round the block. There’s a section of street halfway down where the lights are out. No one’ll see us there.” 

The guy does like he’s told. He’s nervous and shakin’ as he takes himself out of his pants, and Ash makes fast work of him. He doesn’t last half a minute, makin’ all kinds of nasty sounds like he ain’t got any in years. Doesn’t warn Ash either when he’s about to come, and Ash barely gets his mouth off him before he does. 

The guy’s breathing hard and heavy as he comes down off it, and Ash turns away, wiping at his mouth. His stomach churns, and he swallows past the sick taste. 

“That all you want?” He asks after a minute.

The guy doesn’t respond and Ash feels annoyed. That was the problem with newbies. They were easy, but they didn’t get that this was a business transaction. 

“If that’s all, ten bucks man.” He holds his hand out.

“O-oh, right. Right.” The guy finally fumbles for his wallet, hands shakin’ as he pulls out a crisp lookin’ bill. He hands it to Ash, and Ash smiles sweet at him.

“Come back again baby. Couple nights, I’ll take you all the way. How’s that sound? Twenty bucks for a full ride.”

The guy gapes at him.

“Y-yeah, o-okay.”

Ash gives him another smile, before turning to get out of the car. He’s only halfway out when the guy grabs hold of him by the elbow.

Ash feels his stomach drop, his body going stiff with tension.

“H-hey, what… what’s your name anyway? So I can ask around for you?”

“… You’ll see me here. I’ll be in the same spot.” Ash tells him without turning around.

This fucker better let him go right now, or he’s gonna make him sorry.

“Yeah, b-but… your name.”

“I don’t do names. Let me go.”

“O-oh, s-sorry.” The guys fingers loosen their grip and Ash is out the car in a flash. 

His hearts pounding hard against his ribs, vision dark around the edges. He doesn’t turn back around, headin’ straight to where there’s lights. 

Shit… fuck… he hates this shit. Thought for a second… thought the guy was gonna turn out to be one of them big freaks. That he was gonna try somethin’. 

Suddenly he hopes he never sees the perv again.

He crumples the ten bucks up and sticks it in his pocket. Few more John’s and maybe he’d have enough for a room and some food. 

Just a few more…

//

The next few guys ain’t interested when he tells ‘em no for full on sex.

He gets a few hand jobs and a couple of blowies after that, and he’s got about forty-five bucks all told by the end of it. One more hand job, and he could make it an even $50. That plus the nine bucks and change he still had from last week would buy him about two nights in a room, and he’d have plenty left over for some food too.

So he waits around a while. Suzy and all the rest of the girls have gotten picked up and ain’t come back for a few hours, so he guesses they either called it a night or found a client who was willin’ to pay ‘em to stay.

He’s alone on the corner when a fancy ass Cady pulls up. Ash recognizes it. Recognizes the guy drivin’. He’s sort of a regular. Ash has gone with him a few times. Mostly blowies. One time he’d let the guy fuck him. He hopes he ain’t lookin’ for that tonight.

The guy’s window slides down and Ash goes over.

“Hey gorgeous, I was hopin’ I’d find you tonight.” 

“Been here a few hours. Lucky you, you’re my last John for the night.” Ash grins at him.

This guy wasn’t usually too bad. He always paid up front, which was nice, and was usually fine with just a quick thing. The one time Ash’s had let him do him though had been weird. The guy had got rough. Ash had been hurtin’ on his insides for like half a week after. 

“That is lucky. I got a room, if you wanna head there. Just a few blocks south of here.”

Ash leans on the door.

“I ain’t doin’ sex tonight though baby. If you wanna go there, I’ll finger ya, but that’s it. Or if you just want me to suck you off or whatever.” 

Ash felt too tired to dress it up all fancy like he normally would. He hoped the guy just wanted a hand job or somethin’ and that’d do it. 

The guy smiles at him. Rob or whatever his name was. Ash can’t really remember. 

“That’s cool. I’ll give ya twenty if ya finger me, and an extra ten on top, just for bein’ so nice about it.”

That’d be thirty bucks, Ash thinks. He’d have $75 if he took the guy up then. That’d be hard to turn down, since it’d buy him a full week at a hotel and plenty of food. 

He doesn’t feel like it, but damn, he can’t really say no.

“Alright.” He agrees, and the guy reaches over, pulling the door handle and pushing it open.

Ash gets in, pulling the door back shut, and Rob takes off.

It’s late, but there’s still some cars on the road. Not too many people walkin’ the streets though, ‘cept for some derelicts who still haven’t found no place to stay. The air’s gettin’ heavy with rain again, and Ash feels grateful for the heat on in the car. He holds his fingers up to the vents blowing hot air, and keeps his eyes fixed out the window as they drive, watching the blinking neon signs and the smoke comin’ up through the grates along the sidewalks. There’s a drunk guy stumblin’ all over the place, and Ash watches him catch himself along a brick building before doin’ a header into the concrete below. He doesn’t get up, and Ash thinks about how he’s gonna wake up stiff and feelin’ like he’s dyin’ come morning. If he wakes up at all.

“Came around yesterday, but you weren’t in your usual spot.” Rob says, and Ash keeps his eyes out the window. 

“Yeah.” He says. “Been busy.”

He hates when his John’s try makin’ conversation with him, unless that’s all they wanted to do. Sometimes he gets lucky and it is. But usually it’s just a bunch of bullshit, them tryin’ to make the situation seem more normal. They were lookin’ to fuck a little boy, at the end of the day. Wasn’t anything normal about that.

“Oh yeah? Busy doing what?”

Ash grits his teeth and swallows down the nasty words wanting to push their way out. He won’t get the easy thirty bucks if he snaps at the guy now.

“Just stuff.” He forces out. “Ya know? Nothin’ worth mentioning.”

That seems to get Rob to back off, and Ash is glad of it. 

They get to the hotel not too long after. It’s a run down lookin’ joint, just like all the hotels in this area. Full of drug addicts and whores. Perfect place for him, he guesses. Though he ain’t gonna stay here after. He’ll walk a little ways to find some place nicer. Places like this, you were likely to get robbed or molested while you slept. 

He follows Rob in. The guy manning the desk doesn’t even look up from behind the bullet proof glass, and Rob takes him up to the third floor.

Ash doesn’t like that it’s up so high off the ground, but he’s fine. He can feel the weight of his revolver sitting snug in the waistband of his jeans. 

The room’s a shithole, just like the rest of the joint. Old, musty wallpaper lines the small space, any color it might once have held long since faded to bleak lookin’ greys and dirty whites. Shit looks like it’s gotta be from the 30s. Ash can see black mold forming up along the corners near the ceiling. The floors all splintered up with rotting boards. There’s dark stains bleedin’ out over large swaths of it. Who the hell knows what it is. Probably blood.

There’s a beat up looking radiator, though, clunking away along the wall opposite the door, so at least it’s warm. The bed looks nasty, with a rusted frame and a mattress that Ash doesn’t think he’d like to touch, and he thinks for a guy drivin’ around in a Cady, he coulda’ picked a nicer spot than this.

Ash notices the chest of drawers next to the bed then, dinged up and peelin’ paint. There’s a jug of water on top of it, and a box of condoms.

“No sex tonight man. Okay?” He says, and he hears the door shut behind him. Hears the lock slide into place.

Something freezin’ cold runs down Ash’s spine.

He let Rob behind him. 

He stepped into the room first and let Rob behind him.

Shit…

He spins around, reaching for his gun as he does.

Rob’s fist connects with his mouth, and the world rushes up, turns upside down. He hears his gun go skittering away, his spasming fingers letting it go.

The back of his head cracks against the floorboards, and everything’s spinning fast, and Rob’s on top of him.

He lays another fist into Ash’s face, his head snapping again off the floor. For a moment, everything blacks out. There’s copper on his tongue, washing down the back of his throat, and blindly, Ash reaches up, trying to stop the next blow. There’s something awful choking his throat, fear like poison freezing in his veins. He needed to… needs to get away. Get out from under…

Everything’s going too fast. He can’t see. Another blow, and Ash’s thoughts scramble and blow apart, turning to mush. 

There’s a low, moaning sound filling his ears, and then there’s Rob’s angry voice, sayin’ somethin’, but Ash can’t make it out.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, Ash realizes abstractly what’s happening. He’d fucked up, and now he was getting the shit beat out of him. The way the guy kept hitting him too… the rage in his voice… he was gonna kill Ash. Ash knew it, somewhere in the back of his jumbled brain.

He had to get away or he was gonna die tonight. 

Sound and sight come rushing back in on him like a wave, and Rob’s red, twisted face is above him, spit flying from his mouth as he screams obscenities and cuss words down at Ash. He’s calling Ash a filthy whore. Saying insane things like Ash is some sort of devil, leading men into temptation. Leading them to sin. Religious fanaticism. And then his hands are around Ash’s throat, and he’s choking him, and Ash feels the panic almost crush him.

This guy was fucking crazy, and he was gonna kill him.

But Ash wasn’t gonna die like this. In some shitty fuckin’ hotel room, being choked to death by some psycho who blamed him for being a pervert. 

Somehow, he keeps his head, and he moves without needing to think any more on it. 

He punches the fuckers throat, and that gets him off. Long enough for Ash to scramble out from under him anyhow, gasping and trying to suck air past his burning throat.

The world tilts hard as he pushes himself to his feet, blood running into his eyes from somewhere. He knows if he goes down again, he’s done for. Somehow he manages to keep himself up, shaking his head to try and clear his vision as his eyes search frantically along the floor for his gun. He spots it, halfway across the room, near the foot of the bed.

The bastard is behind him, still sputtering and choking, and Ash stumbles away, towards the bed. He doesn’t make it more than two steps before an iron grip closes over his ankle, yanking him back, and pulling him down.

Ash chokes down the cry which tries to tear from his throat, turning and seeing the fuck still gasping and choking for air, staring back at him with wild, bulging eyes.

Ash clamps down on the surge of panic twisting in his chest. He grits his teeth together and kicks back as hard as he can, sinking his foot against the bastards face. His fingers loosen, but he doesn’t let go, so Ash kicks him again, and this time his hand falls away and Ash scrambles forward, towards the bed.

His fingers curl over the handle of his revolver and he rolls onto his back, pointing it forward just as the guy is starting to push himself to his feet, lurching toward him.

“Don’t _fucking_ come near me!” Ash cries, cocking the hammer back, and the bastard freezes where he stands.

Ash keeps his gun trained forward, his eyes locked on the guy.

The fucker grins at him.

“You aren’t gonna use that. You’re like 12. Come on, just give it here. I was only playing just now. Don’t you know that?”

“Shut up!” Ash snaps. Dizziness is still hitting him in waves, and he tries hard not to let it show. “Get the hell outta my way or I swear to God, I’m gonna shoot you!”

The guy’s expression turns ugly again, lips curling into a sneer. That same, vicious hate from before. Ash sees the moment he decides to come at him, and he doesn’t hesitate. 

He aims right for the guys knee, and the fucker goes down like a sack of bricks, howling and screaming bloody murder.

Ash rolls to his feet, staggering and catching himself on the bed frame. The world’s still turning in unrelenting circles, and he shakes his head hard. He had to get outta here. Had to go now. Right fuckin’ now. 

He waits a few seconds longer, and then stumbles forward. His feet feel unsteady beneath him, like the floors rollin’ up and down like waves on the water. He keeps his eyes focused forward, keeps ‘em on the son of a bitch still rollin’ around on the ground, grasping at his leg and moaning loudly. He goes around the bastard, willing his steps steady, making sure he doesn’t step anywhere within the guys reach, and then he’s at the door. His hands are shaking as he undoes the lock and he fumbles at the knob a moment before getting the thing open.

And then he takes off like a bat outta hell. He didn’t get no money. It doesn’t matter. 

He’s barreling down the stairs two at a time, and his visions blurring. The guy at the front desk shouts somethin’ at him, but Ash doesn’t hear. Doesn’t care. He pushes through the front entrance, and then he’s running down the street, fast as he can. Just keeps running ‘till it feels like his lungs are gonna explode. ‘Till he can’t no more, and finally he collapses, stumbling into an alleyway and falling against the brick of a building, gasping for air.

He wipes angrily at his face, teeth clenching tight. He slaps the wall with his open palm, ignoring the painful sting.

Fuckin’ stupid… stupid bastard! 

What fuckin’ right did he have, blaming Ash like that?! What right did he have, tryin’ to kill him for somethin’ that was the fuckers own problem!?

Like it was Ash’s fault these guys were fuckin’ pervs! Nobody told ‘em to cruise for little boys. They made that choice on their own! Damn it! God damn it!

They were all the same. All of ‘em. Bunch of fucking bastards, trying to blame everyone but themselves for the things they did! Like someone held a gun to their head and made ‘em do it! Buncha’ lying bastard hypocrites!

It’s raining again, and Ash slides down the wall, his knees hitting the pavement, hard and unyielding through the material of his jeans. The pain from the blows he’d taken is coming suddenly into focus now, throbbing, shooting spikes of white hot fire through his temples and down into his jaw. His throat aches viciously.

He curls against the cold brick, arms wrapping tight around himself.

It wasn’t fair…

He rubs uselessly at his eyes as hot tears press against their backs, slipping free down his bruised and bloody face.

None of it was any fuckin’ fair…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my thanks once again to all my readers and reviewers! Please enjoy and leave a comment if you can!

Ash wakes up in pain and lying face down in a pile of trash.

His head throbs with nauseating pressure behind his eyes, the pounding of his heart loud and awful in his ears, and he rolls over, a weak groan slipping between his teeth.

The sun overhead blinds him and he throws his hand up over his face to save his eyes from the terrible burning.

God…

Where was he?

He can only lie there for what seems long minutes, trying to remember. Last night… last night he’d… 

Right.

He’d almost gotten murdered by a John. Again.

He’d run away, from that shithole hotel and he’d… he’d collapsed in an alley several blocks away. That must be where he is. He don’t remember getting up and going anywhere else. Felt too shitty, and it’d been raining again. Must of passed out again without remembering. That’d been happening lately. Doesn’t remember falling asleep. Just woke up all of a sudden, feelin’ like hell, and finding lots of hours having gone by.

Fuck… he hopes it’s not too late. He’s… he’s got until evening before he’s gotta show at the docks, so he should be okay. Judging by that sun, it can’t be later than noon.

He lies there a few minutes more before trying to get up.

When he does, the throbbing behind his eyes morphs to a sharp, stabbing lance of pain, shooting up into his temples, and Ash hunches forward, falling onto his hands and knees against the hot pavement. He feels like he’s going to be sick again, saliva gathering thick in his mouth, but all he can manage is a few, violent wretches, his stomach too empty to throw anything back up.

He sits there like that for a long moment, his stomach aching and cramped with hunger, and prays that the world will stop swaying and swooping in sickening turns around him.

Everything fuckin’ hurts. His face feels swollen and is no doubt badly bruised, if the pain tells him anything. The vicious ache of his throat mixes with it and makes him wish he’d never woken up.

He can’t stay here, he thinks blearily. He’s got to get up, get cleaned up if he can, get some food.

Since he didn’t stay in a room last night, he’s got plenty to get something decent to eat, and can afford a room later and for the next few nights. 

If he can manage to get into a shelter a couple nights this week, maybe he won’t have to hook for a few days… maybe…

Fuck… he doesn’t want to think about this shit right now.

He pushes himself to his feet, dizziness hitting him hard, and he has to catch himself against the wall of the building beside him.

It takes a long moment for the dizziness to pass, Ash clamping his eyes shut tight against it, pressing his forehead to the warm brick.

He stays there like that as his hands fumble at the waistband of his pants, his fingers trembling as he tries to undo the button and fly. He’s gotta piss like a race horse, his bladder screaming for relief. Finally he gets the damn thing undone, and he keeps his eyes closed, breathing hard against the wall as he gets himself out and starts to pee. He sags in relief, even as it comes out in spurts and fits, not fluid, and Ash thinks it’s gotta be his bruised kidney still. At least there isn’t any blood anymore. 

It takes almost a couple minutes to empty out his bladder, and then finally he manages to stumble from the alleyway, out onto the sidewalk. There’s people everywhere, moving past in endless waves. Out here, the sun’s even brighter, and Ash lifts a hand, trying to shield his eyes from the searing glare.

He presses himself back against a building and checks his pockets. His gun’s stuffed inside of his jacket, the money he’d made last night crumpled in the pockets of his jeans. He feels relieved to find everything still on him.

Okay… first, he’s gotta find a bathroom and clean his face up. There’s already people glancing at him as they move past, stepping away from him like he’s some sorta’ diseased animal. 

Ash ignores them and starts down the sidewalk, weaving easily between bodies. There was one benefit to being small, he guesses. 

He passes by a few places which he knows have got bathrooms, but which he knows he’ll get thrown outta before he can use ‘em. One look at him, and whoever’s running the joints will freak, maybe even call the cops. He gets picked up for anything, Papa Dino’ll get involved, and it’ll be right back to New Jersey. Ash had already gotten popped a couple times for underage prostitution, and Dino’d been fuckin’ pissed as hell having to get him outta bein’ sent to Juvie. 

It’s gotta be some place gross enough that nobody’ll care then. 

He settles on a ratty old gas station a couple blocks later, ducking into the bathroom before anyone can really notice him.

The place is nasty, but empty, and Ash makes his way to the sink. It’s filthy, but as long as it’s got running water, he ain’t gonna complain.

He turns on the faucet, and feels glad when the water comes out clear. He cups his hands underneath the flow and lets it fill them up, splashing it over his face, once, twice, three times. He avoids looking in the rusted out mirror above the sink for as long as he can, until he can’t make any more excuses, and raises his eyes up to his own reflection.

He stares at himself.

There’s still some blood crusted in the corners of his lips and around the edges of his nostrils, and he wets his fingers, rubbing at the skin until it flakes entirely away. Both his eyes are bruised, but nothing too bad, which is good, and there’s a little swelling along his jaw and brow ridge. It’s not so bad though, really. He thought’d be worse, with how shitty he felt. The worst bruising is around his neck. Ash pulls the collar of his t-shirt down to get a better look at it, and can see the clear imprint of that bastards fingers, forming a ring across his throat in dark, black smudges. 

The fucker had really meant to kill him.

He pushes the thought from his mind and keeps looking at himself. At his pale skin and light blonde hair. His fine features and surreal green eyes and perfect fuckin’ bone structure.

Ash knows how good looking he is. Knows he’s beautiful, even. Gets told it so often by so many people, it makes him wish he could go deaf sometimes. 

People stare at him when he walks around. All googly eyed like they can’t believe he’s real. 

He hates people’s eyes on him like that. 

People acted like being good looking was like being blessed, but all it had ever brought Ash was misery. All being good looking had ever brought Ash was people using him like an object, ‘stead of treatin’ him like a person. He was their beautiful fuckin’ toy.

And not just that. People treated you shitty too if you were good looking, because they got jealous. Same as they got if you were real talented, or smart or whatever. They used it as an excuse to take out all their own bad feelings about themselves on someone else. Like it was your fault they’d been born a certain way, and you another. Fuckin’ stupid.

Ash looks away from his reflection. He hates it. Wishes he’d been born ugly.

He focuses on his hands instead, washes ‘em good. There ain’t no paper towels or nothin’, so he just wipes his hands on his jeans and splits.

Next thing he wants to do is get some food. He’s fuckin’ starvin’, and he still feels lightheaded. He’s got enough cash to afford a real meal, so he heads towards a subway station. There’s a delicatessen down on 854 7th Avenue that’s got the best fuckin’ meatball sandwich he’s ever tasted. It’ll cost him almost ten bucks, but after the last week, he thinks he deserves to splurge a little. He’ll even get a soda pop, ‘cause fuck Dino.

He’s got plenty of time before he needs to meet the other kids at the docks. So long as he doesn’t mess around in Manhattan too long, he should be okay to make it to the drop off point in time.

//

The girl takin’ orders is lookin’ at him funny, and Ash can feel the eyes of a bunch of people in the place, lookin’ at him too. He’d gotten all kinds of people starin’ when he’d walked in. He knows he looks like shit. Probably smells bad too, but whatever. There wasn’t any kinda’ law for throwin’ a paying customer out. Not unless he was causin’ a disturbance. And he wasn’t.

He tries to ignore them, focusing his eyes just past the face of the worker, fixed on nothing.

“A meatball sandwich please. And um, a… a medium soda too, please.”

“Sure.” The girl says, her voice reluctant. “For here or to go?”

He tells her to go and she starts ringing him up, Ash digging into his pocket for cash.

He starts laying the bills out on the counter, trying to straighten them out a little, tryin’ to smooth out the wrinkles with his fingers. They’re all crumpled and shitty lookin’, and this place was in a high-end part of town. He doesn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than he already has.

It’s a mistake though, he guesses, ‘cause the lady catches sight of his hands. They’re clean, but still all banged up, bruised and cut up from everything, just like his face.

“Honey, are you okay?” She asks, and Ash freezes.

He doesn’t pick his eyes up from the counter.

He can’t let her call the cops. She calls the cops, he’s screwed. They’d pick him up, take him in. Then he’d miss the drop off with Alex and then Dino’d have to get him out and… and…

“I’m fine.” He tells her, continuing to straighten out the bills. 

“But, honey, your hands, and your face, are you…”

“I fell on the sidewalk.” He lies. “But I’m alright, really. How much?”

The lady doesn’t look like she believes him. Ash guesses he could just run away before she calls the cops. But he’s really hungry and he just… he just wants his sandwich and soda. He just wants to eat somethin’ and relax, just for a little while.

He breathes out when she finally takes her eyes from him and finishes ringing him up. 

“$9.74.” 

Ash smooths out the ten a little more before pulling his hands away, leaving it on the counter for her to take.

She picks the bill up, and Ash turns and walks away before she can bother with his change. 

He waits off in a corner, pressing himself back into it. He crosses his arms over his chest and makes himself as small as possible while he waits for his order.

When it’s up, he walks back to the counter and grabs the wrapped sandwich and empty fountain cup.

He feels antsy and nervous as he fills the cup at the soda machine with Coke. Feels cornered.

He barely remembers to grab a cap and a straw before he takes off, having to stop himself from running. Shoulda’ just gone someplace else, he thinks. He stuck out too much in places like this. If he got picked up by the cops, if he got…

He’s out the door, and moving across the street, fast as he can. He walks a few blocks more, until he makes it to Central Park.

He didn’t hear no cops or anything. Kept checking behind him to make sure he wasn’t bein’ followed. 

He slips into the park and wanders a little ways before settling on a bench.

He’s still nervous. Keeps lookin’ around, but nobody’s out here except the usual park goers. Ash shakes his head. Stupid.

He unwraps his sandwich with shaking fingers, and he forgets his paranoia when the smell of the food wafts up into his face, his stomach tight with hunger, mouth thick with saliva. 

He sinks his teeth into the bread and meat inside, and he thinks the risk had been worth it. The sauce squeezes out between the slices, slopping over his fingers, and Ash realizes, with what a hurry he’d been in to get out of the place, he didn’t get no napkins.

He licks the sauce off his fingers, and thinks about how mad Papa would be, if he saw him eating like this. 

He doesn’t want to think about that though. Not after Marvin had told on him about the Twinkies. Marvin wasn’t around to see now, but… he doesn’t want to think about it.

He takes another bite of his sandwich and leans back on the bench, watching people pass by for a bit. He remembers his soda finally. In is hurry out of the delicatessen, he’d forgotten to put the straw through the cap, and he looks around for it now, spotting it rolled partway down the seat of the bench. He grabs for it, bringing it to his mouth and tearing the paper wrapping with his teeth. He jams the straw against his leg to get it out the rest of the way and pokes it through the top of his cup, sucking at it eagerly.

It feels good to eat something. 

He tries to focus on the food. On the taste. Tries to enjoy it. Tries to relax.

He eats slow, and after a while, he can’t eat no more, less than half the sandwich gone. He thinks about wrapping it back up and saving it, but it’d just go to waste, probably. 

He breaks a piece of the bread off, crumpling it and throwing it to a squirrel a few feet away.

The little guy gets excited, coming over, and Ash pulls more pieces off, breaking them apart and tossing them on the ground.

“Hey little buddy.” He says.

The squirrel chitters at him, and pretty soon, Ash has given him the whole rest of the top slice. 

He sits around for a while, talking to the squirrel, before the little guy eventually loses interest and dashes off, up a tree.

Ash watches him go. Watches him hop from branch to branch, until he loses sight of him, up in the foliage.

Wishes he could be like that squirrel. Wishes he could just run away and disappear. Wishes he could, someday…


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, all my thanks to all my readers and reviewers! You guys are awesome and keep me so motivated to keep going! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and let me know your thoughts if you have a chance.

Ash is at the docks almost an hour before the meet up time, waiting. The smell of fish wafts heavy on the air, coming in from the harbor and docked boats, the night humid and oppressively hot. Ash wrinkles his nose at the stench and pulls his jacket off. Why the fuck’s it so hot tonight when it’s been cold the last god damn week anyway?

He shakes his head, tearing his mind from it. He needed to stay focused.

It’s _not_ just ‘cause he’s worried about pissing Papa off again that he showed early. 

There’s supposed to be some other kids here he hasn’t met before, and the go between guy who hands the drugs off so they can take ‘em to Dino’s dealers. 

He knows Alex, sort of. Not well or nothin’. He’s met him, that’s all. And after last night, with the John, Ash knows it’s stupid to trust anyone even if you’ve talked to ‘em a few times.

But Alex seems alright, he guesses. He doesn’t know nobody else though, never met ‘em, and that means Ash can’t trust ‘em at all. So he got here early, so he could check ‘em out before showin’ himself.

About five minutes before the meet up time, a car drives up, and Ash watches from a hidden corner as Alex and a couple other kids get out. The other two don’t look like nothin’ bad. Just a couple of average street punks. They’re a little older than him. Alex is too, by a couple years at least, Ash thinks. They’re all bigger than him, taller and broader. Alex has got a good three inches on him, and one of the other kids is a couple inches bigger than that even. It makes Ash a little nervous, but it’s nothin’ he can’t handle if things go south.

Alex is horsin’ around with the other two, jostling and elbowing and laughing, and Ash relaxes a little.

A few minutes later, the middle-man shows up. It’s the same guy as the last few times Ash had to do this, so he decides things should be alright.

He shrugs back into his jacket and steps outta where he’s hiding, making his way over.

Alex spots him first, a big grin on his face.

“Yo man! What’s up?!” He waves.

Ash shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket, nodding at the older boy.

“Hey.”

“Wooeee, who the hell’s this sweet young thing?” One of the other kids whistles, the big one, and Ash feels his shoulders go rigid. 

Alex gives the kid a shove against the shoulder.

“He’s with us man. Shut up.”

“You serious? He’s too fuckin’ pretty to run with our crew. Looks like a damn girl.”

“He’s with us man. I’ve worked with him before. He’s down.”

“Well, we’ll see ‘bout that. How old’s he anyway? Looks like he’s ten years old or some shit.” The bigger kid stalks towards Ash, his hand reaching out like he wants to grab hold of him. 

Ash ducks under his grabbing fingers, slapping his hand away hard.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” He snarls, and the other kid laughs.

“Whew hoo, got a feisty one here boys! Come on kid, I just wanna get a better look at cha!”

The big jerkoff makes another grab for him.

Alex start to say something, taking a step like he’s gonna intervene, but Ash is quicker.

He doesn’t have time for this shit.

He ducks away from the older kid, right up into his personal space, and grabs for his balls, squeezing his fingers over ‘em as hard as he can.

That puts the big asshole down on his knees quick, but Ash doesn’t let go, following him there.

“I told you not to fuckin’ touch me asshole!” He spits in the kids face, and the kid howls and squirms, his face twisted in pain.

“O-okay, okay! I’m sorry man! I’m sorry! P-please lemme go!”

Ash glares at him a second more, making sure the fucker ain’t gonna try touchin’ him again, before he lets him go and jumps back to his feet.

The other kid stays down on the ground, clutching at his balls and whining stupidly, and Ash hears laughter, lookin’ up and seeing Alex and the other kid he’s with doubled over and slappin’ their knees. 

He frowns, not understandin’ what they thinks so funny.

He steps back, arms coming up around himself, watching them warily.

“Man, B-Benji, he… h-he got you good, hahaha!” Alex finally stutters out between bursts of laughter.

“Who’d guess a p-pretty boy like that’d go straight for the crown jewels, huh!?” The other kid snorts, the two of them still bent over, hysterical.

Ash doesn’t know why that’s so funny. He doesn’t understand half of what anyone thinks it seems like.

“You dumbasses done with fuckin’ around?” The middle man, Julian, Ash thinks his name is, barks, and that gets Alex and the other kid to shut up.

The dick on the ground, Benji, Ash guesses, stumbles to his feet, eying Ash with a hell of a lot more worry than he did before as he moves away, and Ash just stares back at him.

He’s fuckin’ sick of assholes thinkin’ they can just put their hands on him whenever they feel like. 

Alex comes over to him, and Ash has to resist the urge to step away. He wishes he didn’t have to be here.

“Hey man, sorry about Benji. He’s a fuckin’ idiot sometimes.”

Ash looks up at the other kid, sticking his hands back in his pockets and shrugging.

“Whatever. Just tell the fucker to stay away from me.”

“I get it. I hear we’re gonna break up into groups ‘a two to make the deliveries. You wanna go with me?”

Ash would rather go on his own. But he guesses Alex is better than the other two he don’t know, so he nods.

“Cool! Guess we better get to it.”

Ash follows Alex over to Julian, keeping back a couple paces and feelin’ the weight of his revolver pressing against his ribs. He eyes the big kid, Benjie. Fucker tries anything again, he’ll blow his knee out, Ash thinks. Just like that fucker last night.

Julian’s openin’ the trunk of his car up. The whole things lined top to bottom with coke, wrapped in tight, white bricks of plastic and duct tape. This all here’s small time. The Corsican family’s got about a hundred operations bigger, bringing in cash in the multi-millions every month. Ash listens to Papa Dino when he takes calls in his private office, off his bedroom. He thinks Ash ain’t listenin’, but he always is. Dino tells him how smart he is all the time, but Ash doesn’t think the bastard believes it really. Not like he says, anyhow. If he did, he wouldn’t be so careless around Ash. Wouldn’t conduct his business anywhere where he could hear. Ash knows what the fuck is about. He wants to think he was givin’ Ash his brains, like he thinks he’s givin’ him culture and refinement too. Dino, despite all his money and power and hifalutin ideas about himself, wasn’t no different than any of the other pervs. He liked the idea of owning another person, that was all. Gettin’ to tell that person how to act, how to think, how to feel. He liked the idea that he was makin’ Ash into whatever he wanted him to be, molding him into a suitable puppet. But Ash ain’t nobodies puppet. He was smart way before Dino ever got a hold of him. Ash remembers, back… back before Griff left for the war, when he’d been in grade school, he remembers his teacher’s talkin’ about him needing to move up a bunch of grades. High school, they were sayin’, maybe even college courses. That was before Griff left. 

Ash was good at shit. He could read fast, like a page a second, and he remembered everything he read, everything he heard. Like, he could recall it word for word. Patterns too. He could remember complex sequences he’d only seen once, musical, or numerical, or visual. All that. He could recall ‘em back like they were just sittin’ there, right in front of him. He could always just see. Math also. Numbers just popped into his head, his brain cycling through steps to equations so fast, sometimes he couldn’t even remember thinkin’ them distinctly before he was at the next, and the answer was just there for him, almost suddenly. Hard math too, ‘least, according to his tutors it was hard. Calculus and theoretical physics and chemistry. Stuff like that. The tutors Dino hired always looked so fuckin’ shocked at how easy it was for him. Then they always got this look in their eye when he solved some problem they didn’t think he could. Especially when he solved it right away. This almost angry, real bothered look. They hated him. They were jealous. Like how people got about his looks too. Like they were mad at him for bein’ better at it than they were, like it was his fuckin’ fault. Like he was good at it just to make ‘em miserable. But it wasn’t his fault. Things had always just laid themselves out for him like that. A million possibilities and he saw ‘em all. Saw the right answers. Doesn’t even know how he does it. Just does. Always could.

Dino didn’t give him his brains. Ash knows he’s fuckin’ smart. Like he knows he’s good lookin’. Knows Dino didn’t give him none of that, no matter how much the old bastard tries to convince everyone that he did.

Yeah. This here’s small time. Even still, it brings in thousands ‘a dollars a week. 

Ash hates it. He knows where this shit’s goin’. Out onto the streets, gettin’ sold mostly to kids his age and a little older. It’s fuckin’ crap. Plenty of prostitutes too that were hooked on the stuff. He saw a lot of the women he spent his nights around suckin’ this junk up their noses. Fuckin’ crack houses all over the place in this city.

“Alright,” Julian’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “so, whichever’s of you’s is goin’ South, you ride with me as I’m goin’ back that way, and we’ll keep that half of the supply in my trunk until we get there. Whichever of you’s is stickin’ to this area, unload thirty of the bricks into your trunk. You know what to do after that I hope.”

“Me and him.” Alex starts, jerking his thumb in Ash’s direction. “We’re stickin’ round here.”

The older boy looks at him.

“That cool?”

Ash shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, then you two get to it.” Julian nods at the trunk.

Ash gets started grabbing a couple bricks while Alex opens up the trunk of his own car. It’s a real piece of shit clunker. Some beat up Chrysler from the early 60s, it looks like. 

Between them, it only takes a few minutes to unload their half of the supply.

Ash gets in the passenger side of the car after. He hopes it goes smooth and fast tonight. He doesn’t want to be out here doin’ this longer than he has to.

Him and Alex are on the road not long after, makin’ their way to the first dealer. 

Alex starts talkin’, and Ash fixes his eyes out the side window, wishing he’d stop.

“Sorry again about Benjie man. He’s a real asshole. Ya know?”

“No shit.” Ash says.

“He ain’t part of our regular crew. He wanted some extra cash, so I told him he could come along tonight. Guess that was a mistake. He runs with Arthur. You know Arthur? Fredrick Arthur?”

Ash leans his forehead against the cool of the glass. It’s fuckin’ hotter in this car than it was outside. Almost stifling. 

“… No.” 

“Better you don’t.” Alex ploughs on, and Ash closes his eyes. “He runs most of the gangs ‘round this area. You know? He’s the boss. He’s a real bastard though. Plays dirty pool, if ya know what I mean. Rumor is he got control of so many gangs ‘round here by settin’ the other bosses up, gettin’ ‘em sent down the river. Lotta guys turnin’ up dead too. So… yeah, he ain’t a cool dude. Me and a few others are holdin’ out though. Least, we’re tryin’. It’s hard cause we ain’t really got a boss ourselves. Seems like we’re losin’ guys every day, goin’ over to Arthur’s crew. They do it ‘cause they’re scared I guess, wantin’ protection. Ya ask me, they’re makin’ a mistake. Can’t trust a rat like Arthur. Say man, you don’t talk much, do you?”

Ash feels his temper flare up, the words spilling out before he can stop ‘em.

“And you talk too much.” He snaps.

There’s an awkward silence then, and Ash grits his teeth. 

Damn it.

“O-oh, sorry man.” Alex starts. “I’ll shut up then, I guess.”

“No, shit… I’m sorry.” Ash finally turns to look at the older boy. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just havin’ a bad week man. Sorry. You can keep talkin’.”

“Oh, okay.” Alex smiles at him, and Ash looks away, fumbling with the roller for the window.

“Can I put the window down?” He asks. “It’s fuckin’ hot in here.”

“Yeah man, sure!” Alex answers. He sounds relieved. Ash feels bad. He didn’t mean to snap at the kid like that. He was just tryin’ to be nice, he guesses. 

He rolls the window all the way down and leans his arms on the sill, resting his head on them and lettin’ the air outside go through his hair. It feels nice.

“So… I noticed you got some bruises and stuff. That what you talkin’ about?”

Ash breathes out heavily. Shouldn’t ‘a said anything about that. 

“Yeah.” He answers. He doesn’t elaborate. He hopes the other kid’ll just drop it.

“That sucks.” Alex goes on. “Someone beat you up or somethin’? You seem like you know how to take care of yourself.”

Fuck it, Ash thinks. Who cares if he knows? It was his choice doin’ what he did. There wasn’t nothin’ to be ashamed of.

“I’m a hooker.” He says, keepin’ his voice flat, not bothering to turn around. “One of my John’s tried to kill me last night.”

The silence is heavy and stunned, Ash can tell. He’s sure Alex is staring at him wide eyed and all that. It don’t matter. Who cares what he thinks? Ash didn’t care. He didn’t. Fuckin’ whatever.

“… O-oh, wow.” Alex finally breathes.

Ash rolls his eyes.

“That’s fucked up. A-about the guy tryin’ to kill you I mean. I-if it was a guy, I mean… I don’t know what…”

“It was a guy.” Ash cuts him off, annoyed by how embarrassed Alex is. It wasn’t like he was the one suckin’ guys off and takin’ it up the ass. “And yeah, it is.”

Alex doesn’t say nothin’ else for a few minutes.

Ash doesn’t guess he can blame him. 

Most people didn’t know how to react to a little kid who let guys fuck him for a livin’. 

“S-so, uh… y-you live around these parts, or…?”

“Nah… I don’t live anywhere.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess… I remember you sayin’ somethin’ about that last time we worked together. You, uh… well… you wanna come over to my place after we’re done tonight? I got some friends comin’ over, but they ain’t assholes like Benjie, I promise. Oh! And we got an Atari! We got Combat and Space Invaders!”

Ash turns to look at him again.

“What’s that?” He asks.

Alex looks at him like he’s got two heads or somethin’. 

“You know, video games.”

Ash shakes his head.

He don’t know what that is. 

“What the hell’s a video game? You mean those things that can play movies an’ stuff without havin’ to go to a theater?”

Dino had one of them machines in his place. He didn’t let Ash use it ever, but he’d seen Papa and his guests watchin’ movies and shit on it. He’d seen ‘em… seen ‘em watchin’ some of the tapes they made of… of him and some of the other kids from Club Cod. 

He tries not to think of that though.

Alex looks like he can’t believe what he’s hearin’, and Ash feels suddenly uncomfortable, his face flushing hot. 

“What?” He asks.

“Video games man! Come on! I know you must’ve at least seen a Pac-Man machine in the arcades and shit! Or maybe Pong?”

Ash has never been in an arcade. He doesn’t know what a video game is. He doesn’t know what a pack man machine is. He shakes his head.

“Oh man.” Alex half-laughs, looking back to the road. Ash frowns. “You gotta come over then, if you ain’t never played. It’s the coolest shit!”

Ash only looks back at him. He doesn’t really wanna go over to some kid’s house who he’s only met one time before this. He especially doesn’t know about hanging out with this kid’s other friends. But whatever this thing was he was talkin’ about sounded neat, even though he couldn’t really picture what it was. He knew about pinball machines. There’d been an old pinball machine in a rundown bar back in Cap Cod which Griff had sometimes taken him to and let him play. He hadn’t been any good at it. He hadn’t really been able to see over the top, so he’d just ended up smashing the buttons on the side while Griff watched and laughed. But he remembers thinkin’ it was fun.

“What’s it do? I mean, what is it?” Ash shoves away his embarrassment at not knowing, letting his curiosity win out. “I ain’t never heard of video games before. Is it like a pinball machine or somethin’?”

Alex shakes his head.

“Nah ah, it’s more like… so, it’s this machine that you hook up to a TV, and you stick like these… these cartridges in it, and the game is on these cartridges. And it puts like an image up on the TV screen, and you can control what’s happenin’ on screen. Like you got a character and you can decide what he does.”

“That sounds weird. How do ya control what’s happenin’ on screen?”

Alex laughs.

“Shit, I dunno. That’s for the nerds to figure out. Ya know, brainy fuckers.”

“… Yeah.” Ash looks away. 

He’s curious. He’d like to see whatever this thing was. He doesn’t like the idea of going to Alex’s house or whatever, but… he’s got his gun, so if anyone tries anything, he’ll be okay. Long as he don’t let his guard down or nothin’. 

“… Okay.” He says.

He sees Alex turn and look at him from his periphery.

“Yeah!?” He sounds excited.

Ash nods.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Cool man! We’ll have a blast! Let’s get this shit over with and we’ll head to my place.”

“Alright.”

Ash turns back to the window, leaning his head on his arms again, letting the warm night air wash over his face.

He hoped he didn’t end up regretting this.

He always seemed to regret so many things…


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my thanks once again to all my readers and reviewers! You guys are awesome, and as always, if you have a chance, please leave a comment and tell me what you think!

It takes ‘em close to three hours to make all the drops, and by the time they make it to Alex’s place, a rundown tenement complex on the far side of town, it’s past midnight.

Alex tells him he lives with his mom and younger sister, and Ash asks if he’s sure it’s alright he comes over so late.

“Yeah man, they don’t care. They’ll be sleepin’ by now anyway.”

Ash don’t feel confident about that. But… he guesses they must be used to Alex’s bringing weirdo street punks over at strange hours. If they get antsy about it, he’ll just split.

“It’s on the second floor.” Alex says, holding the entrance door open.

Ash shakes his head.

“You first.” 

Alex looks at him funny, but Ash doesn’t care. He ain’t makin’ the same mistake twice, doesn’t matter who it is.

“Elevators out, so we gotta take the stairs.” Alex tells him once they’re in the building, and Ash shrugs.

They trudge up two flights. The whole complex stinks like piss and smoke, and the walls are thin. Ash can hear music and people fighting as they walk past rows of doors. The carpeted hallways are stained with who the hell knows what, dark splotches blackening what he thinks had once been some sort of green.

“Here we are.” Alex announces when they reach the end of the hall, stopping in front of the second to last door. He pulls a key out from his pants pocket. “The other guys should be around soon. You hungry?” He asks, slotting the key into the lock. 

Yes, Ash thinks. He ain’t eaten nothin’ since the early afternoon and he feels weak. He shrugs again. 

“Well, we got plenty to eat, if you want somethin’. Help yourself to whatever.”

Finally Alex gets the door open and pushes it in, stepping into the apartment, Ash following closely behind.

The unit reflects the rest of the building. Small and dingy. It’s mostly just one, open space, with three doors in sight, one of them leading to a bathroom. But it looks relatively clean and well maintained, with a beat up but comfortable looking couch in the center of the room, facing a pretty new looking TV set and a cabinet underneath it. There’s a couple of big speakers on either side of the cabinet, and a rack of vinyl records off in the corner, a turntable beside it. The rest of the apartment is fully furnished with used but sturdy looking furniture. It’s gotta be the money Alex was getting’ from running drugs for Dino that’s helped payed for all this, he thinks.

It’s a hell of a lot nicer than some of the places Ash has spent the night though, so he ain’t gonna complain. Still, he feels himself wound tight. 

“Kitchen’s over there.” Alex jerks a thumb over towards a kitchenette, nothing more than a short countertop with a small stove and sink built in, and a small refrigerator up against the adjacent wall. “Bathroom. Then the two bedrooms. One’s my mom’s, the others Becky’s. That’s my sister. I sleep out here on the couch.”

“… Okay.” Ash answers. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure man. I’ll get us some snakes and then I’ll show you the Atari. Cool?”

“Yeah… cool.”

Ash escapes quickly into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

He leans back against the wood and lets himself sink to the floor. His breath feels tight and uneven in his chest, his vision screwy.

Shit… maybe he shouldn’t of come. He don’t know how to do this. He doesn’t… hasn’t ever hung out with anyone before. Just like, _hung out_. Alex already thought he was a freak or somethin’, ‘cause he told him he hooked. And he was gonna have a bunch of his friends over. Ash knows he ain’t gonna fit in, ‘cause he don’t really fit in anywhere. He don’t know how to act normal or whatever. He was probably just gonna make all of ‘em uncomfortable and mess the whole thing up.

“I should just leave.” He whispers to himself.

He wanted to see this video game thing though.

He can hear Alex movin’ around out there, and then he hears a ruckus of voices and knows his friends have shown up.

Ash closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the door and just sitting there a long moment, before he pushes himself back up to his feet.

He takes a leak. It only hurts a little this time. Washes his hands. He stands at the door for a long minute. He doesn’t really wanna go out there. Doesn’t wanna talk to nobody. But he guesses he can’t really leave now without it lookin’ even weirder. He doesn’t know why he’s even feelin’ so anxious over it all. Stupid.

Fuck it, he thinks.

He pulls the door open and steps out.

There’s two new kids he spots. One of ‘em’s a big black kid. Gotta be close to six feet tall, with a broad, sort of dumb but kind face. The other one’s a shrimpy lookin’ white kid, a little ugly with shaggy brown hair and freckles and wearing overalls that’re too long at the bottom, his chest and arms otherwise bare. It’s hard to tell how old the black kid is, given his height. The white kid don’t look no older than Ash. They’re about the same size. 

“Yo, Ash! Hey, over here!” Alex waves him over to where he’s talkin’ to his friends in the kitchen area. “Guys, this is that kid I was tellin’ you about. Ash, this here’s Kong,” he nods at the black kid. “and the puny one here’s Bones.”

Ash shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and makes his way over to them. 

“Hey.”

The new guys are gawking at him, which ain’t nothin’ new. 

“This here’s Ash. He’s cool.” Alex introduces. “We’ve run a couple jobs together.”

“Hey Ash.” The shrimpy white kid greets. 

“Yo.” Kong waves.

Ash feels some of the tension go out of his shoulders. Least they weren’t tryin’ to grab at him. At least, not yet.

“I told Ash I’d show him the Atari. He ain’t never played before. Not even nothin’ in the arcades.”

The new kid’s eyes go wide, mouths open like they can’t believe it, and Ash feels that same hot rush to his face. He scowls, looking away.

“Big deal.” He snaps. “Some of us got better things to do than play stupid games.”

“They ain’t stupid!” Bones says. “You gotta be flush to get the Atari. Costs two hundred bucks with tax and shit. Bet you ain’t got that kinda cash, so you just jealous.”

Ash feels his temper flare, hot and bright in his chest.

“Yeah? And where you get the money to pay for somethin’ like that? Fuckin’ Golzine give you money to run drugs for him. You ever think about where those drugs are goin’? Sellin’ ‘em to kids on the street like us, gettin’’ ‘em hooked on the shit. All so you can spend money on some frivolous shit like toys and games and big TV sets. Get the fuck outta here dickbag. No I ain’t got that kinda cash. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be spendin’ it on stupid, useless junk! Fuckin’ stupid! You don’t know nothin’.”

Alex and the other two are lookin’ at him now like he’s crazy, their faces open with shock.

Ash can feel his eyes burning and he grits his teeth against it, willing the tears away.

Fuck it, this was a mistake. He shouldn’t of come. Doesn’t know why the hell he did.

He shakes his head.

“Later with you clowns. I’m gone.” He snaps, turning and stalking towards the front door.

“Ash, wait! Hey, Bones didn’t mean that! Come on man, don’t go!” 

Ash doesn’t listen. Just keeps goin’.

“Bones, fuck man! Why’d you say that!? Tell him you didn’t mean nothin’!”

“Well, he’s gettin’ payed just like us for drug runnin’, ain’t he?!” Bones argues, and that freezes Ash in his tracks. “He’s just bein’ a dick, tryin’ to make us feel guilty over the same shit he’s doin’!”

Ash’s hands curl to fists at his sides, his whole body tensin’ up hard.

He doesn’t care what these clowns thinks, he tells himself. He doesn’t give a shit. It don’t matter, what they think. It don’t matter.

He knows he shouldn’t say anything. He should just fuckin’ leave.

He turns around.

“Dino doesn’t pay me.” He says, his voice low. He can’t keep the tremor out of it. “He doesn’t pay me shit to run drugs for him. So don’t fuckin’ assume shit about me just ‘cause that’s what it is for you.”

They stare back at him, dumb and mute, and Ash is about to turn again and leave.

“Golzine doesn’t pay you?” Alex calls out. “Th-then why do you…?”

“Take a wild fuckin’ guess!” Ash snaps. “I don’t got a choice! Not if I… if I wanna stay alive!”

Tense silence fills the air between them then.

This was such a fuckin’ stupid mistake. Why the fuck is he still standin’ here? Why the fuck did he come at all?

“… Hey, I… I’m sorry man, I didn’t… I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I shoulda’ kept my stupid mouth shut.” Bones says, and Ash isn’t expecting that.

He stiffens, taking a step back.

“What?”

“… I… I’m sorry?”

Ash stares at the kid.

No one’s ever… done that. No one’s ever told him sorry for nothin’. 

He doesn’t know what to say, and he knows he’s lookin’ stupid, just standin’ here and starin’ and shit. He should say somethin’, but he doesn’t know what.

“… Okay.” He finally blurts, ‘cause he doesn’t know what else to say. He looks stupid, gettin’ all riled up like that, but… he didn’t like people makin’ assumptions about him. ‘Specially when it came to Dino and him and all that shit. 

He can see Alex visibly relax, his shoulders slumping.

“Cool. Cool man. I mean, don’t leave, okay Ash? That was just a stupid misunderstandin’. I still wanna show you the Atari if you wanna see it. I didn’t mean nothin’ by talkin’ ‘bout you never playin’. I just… I wanted to show ya.”

Ash crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah. Okay, fine.” 

That wide grin is back on Alex’s face, the other two lookin’ just as relieved.

“Whew, okay, cool. I thought you were gonna kick all our asses for a second there man. Yo, this kid fucked Benjie up for gettin’ handsy with him.” Alex tells the other two. 

“Benjie? You mean from Arthur’s crew?” Kong asks, his eyes going wide.

“Yeah.”

“Man, that guys a dick.” Bones jumps in. 

“Real talk. Ash here was like a ninja and shit. Got the fuckers balls in a vice grip and put him on his knees.”

“For real? Damn!”

Alex keeps talkin’, exaggerating what Ash even did, Bones and Kong gettin’ more and more excited, and Ash wishes he would stop. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Can you show me this video game thing now?” He cuts in finally, sounding irritated.

“O-oh, right man! Yeah. Hey, can you guys get the snakes while I set the Atari up?” He asks his friends.

Bones and Kong agree no problem, and Alex leads Ash over to the TV.

The whole dynamic is weird as hell, he thinks. He doesn’t fit in here. Feels outta place. He wishes Alex hadn’t told the other two about what happened at the docks with that bitch Benjie, ‘cause now they were gettin’ that same look to ‘em that the kids at Club Cod had always had. Lookin’ at him like he was somethin’ special. He doesn’t even know these kids. 

“I just gotta hook it up to the TV real quick.” Alex is saying, and Ash pulls his mind back to the reason he came over in the first place.

The older boy has got some sort of wacky lookin’ device in his hands made of what looks like black plastic with wood veneer. It says “video computer system” along the top of it, and Ash frowns.

“It’s a computer.” He says, his interest piquing. 

“Huh? Oh, I… I guess?” Alex starts. He’s unraveling an AC adaptor which has had the cord wrapped up, and a standard looking visual/audio cable, which Ash notices he plugs into the back of the machine to hook up to the TV.

“Does it got a microprocessor? Or is it more like older computers?”

Alex looks up at him, his expression lost.

“What?”

“I mean, microprocessors are pretty new. Only like ten years old or somethin’. So I mean, does it run off one, or is it more like old style, with a bunch of circuit boards and integrated units? If it’s a microprocessor, that’s gonna make it a whole lot more reliable. Not as many connections to go bad. Ya know? It’s super cool, ‘cause of how it applies both combinational logic and sequential digital logic. I mean theoretically wise.”

“Uhh…”

“‘Cause it’s like… In terms of hardware, it’s this thing called Very-Large-Scale-Integration. Which basically just means they’re combining millions of MOS transistors into a single chip. Before that, I mean, you couldn’t get much outta nothin’. Most IC’s only had like a single function, like you could have a CPU or RAM to a single IC and that was it, so you’d have to have a whole bunch of ‘em to make the whole thing run. It’s what made computers so big and bulky back in the day, and fuckin’ crazy expensive. I mean, it’s why nobody but like universities and labs had ‘em and stuff. But VLSI lets you combine all that shit. It’s way more efficient in terms of processing power and size and shit. It’s gotta be a microprocessor, right? And you said somethin’ about the games bein’ on cartridges? I’m guessin’ that’s a ROM cartridge. That’s how you load the program onto the hardware, ‘stead of it bein’ built in to the unit, which I mean, you’re gonna get limited options with that. It’s not even a computer if that’s the case. But like, it used to be you’d need a floppy drive to download any software or access programs, which again is crazy expensive. So yeah, man, it’s gotta be a microprocessor, right?”

Alex stares at him for a long moment, eyes wide. And then he laughs, the sound nervous, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uhh, Ash, I… I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about man.”

Ash blinks at him, and then he feels his face heat.

Oh…

Shit… he did it again. He was always doin’ shit like that. Like anyone else was gonna know what the hell he was talkin’ about. He just always forgot most people didn’t really get this kinda stuff… He thought it was interesting, so he always just shot his mouth off about it without thinkin’…

He looks away, embarrassed.

“Uh… n-nevermind. Just… sorry. Forget it.”

Alex is still lookin’ at him like he’s got two heads though.

“You a computer nerd or somethin’? I mean, how you even know all that stuff?”

“… I… I just like computers, that’s all. I read about a lot of stuff.”

That wasn’t the full story. Dino had hired a teacher to start givin’ Ash lessons in computer science a few months ago. It didn’t seem like the clown knew much about anythin’ to Ash though, so Ash started doin’ his own research. He understood it all easy enough, and he wanted to test some ideas he had, so he got Dino’s permission to order a whole bunch ‘a parts and materials through the mail, and had started building computers from scratch, sometimes even buildin’ the parts from scratch. He liked to take full computers apart too and study the components. It was cool. Probably the only thing he enjoyed whenever he was forced to stay at Dino’s compound. He’d get to buildin’ them on his own, except he didn’t have no cash for that sort of thing. Computer parts were expensive, and even the materials to make those parts would run up a big bill. Ash couldn’t afford none of it. Dino let him do it ‘cause he thought he was molding Ash into some kind of weapon for him or somethin’, and wanted him to be educated in all kinds of crap. Ash didn’t care about none of that. He just liked the technology and figurin’ out how it worked. 

Sometimes… sometimes, he thought about things like doin’ it professionally and stuff. Like, becoming a computer engineer, or some kind of scientist. He thought about those things but… it was a pipe dream, he knew. Wasn’t any gettin’ outta this life, ‘cept dying, probably.

Anyway, he couldn’t tell all that stuff to Alex anyhow. There wasn’t no point, and he couldn’t explain.

“So show me what it can do.” He says instead.

Alex looks relieved, happily going back to setting the machine up.

Kong and Bones come over with a big bowl of potato chips and a bunch of sodas, dropping down onto the couch.

“Here ya go.” Kong hands out a couple of Pepsi’s to Ash and Alex, one to Bones.

“Thanks.” Ash mutters.

He leans back against the foot of the couch, flipping the tab on the soda, sipping at it. He watches as Alex brings out some kind of controllers it looks like, and then Alex is explaining to him that they’re called “joy sticks”, and how they work.

“We’ll do Space Invaders.” He announces, jamming one of the ROM cartridges into its slot. “You wanna play against me or the computer Ash?”

Ash takes another sip of his Pepsi before setting the can down on a table off the side of the couch.

“I’ll play against you.” 

“Cool man!”

It takes Ash a couple rounds to get the hang of it. It’s fun. He likes the bright colors on the screen, and thinks it’s cool the way the mechanics work. He’ll have to look into it more, about how the whole thing is designed, he thinks. There’s gotta be some literature on it at the library.

The games mostly based on reaction times, so Ash gets good at it fast, and he beats Alex, and then Bones and Kong, until the three of them get tired of playing against him, and he faces off against the computer for a while. After a few rounds, he starts beating that too, and Alex and the others are gettin’ excited again, telling him he’s gotta come to an arcade with them and try pack man. Ash still don’t know what that is, but he likes playing this one, so he says he’ll think about it. They keep tellin’ him if he’s as good at pack man as he is at Space Invaders, he’ll get a high score for sure. Ash don’t know what that means either, but he says okay.

It's almost four in the morning before they’re finally through. Alex pulls some sleeping bags out from some tiny storage space. He offers to let Ash have the couch, but Ash tells him that’s okay, the sleeping bag is fine.

It’s another night where he doesn’t have to worry about where he’s gonna sleep. About how much he’s gonna have to spend for a room. Another night he won’t have to hook. He’s grateful for that. He hopes none of ‘em get any weird ideas during the night, but if they do, he’ll just sock ‘em. Anyway, it was almost mornin’, so he’ll crash for a few hours and then split.

It takes him another hour before he’s able to fall asleep. By then, the sky outside is just beginning to lighten with the approach of the sun, and Ash’s world sinks into the peace of black nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, all my thanks to all my readers and reviewers! You guys are awesome!

Ash wakes up about three hours later. Alex and the others are still sleepin’, though he can hear some movement behind the closed doors of the other rooms, so he finds a pencil and a piece of scrap paper and writes a note saying thanks for everything and that he’ll see ‘em all later.

He catches the subway to Manhattan and ends up at the library again.

He wants to know more about video games and the programing and design behind ‘em, so he asks the lady manning the front desk if they got anything.

She smiles at him because she thinks he’s a cute little boy that likes video games, and tells him they got like two titles, and is nice enough to show him exactly where.

The books aren’t very useful. One of ‘em’s just a history of video games and the emergence of the industry, which is sort of interesting. The other’s basically a glorified catalog, listing every different title and giving a brief summary of what the titles are about. Ash reads both of ‘em in less than half an hour and feels disappointed. He guesses ‘cause it’s such a new industry, there really ain’t that much literature on it yet. He doesn’t really know where he can find more info. He guesses he’ll just have to wait and keep checkin’, and hope eventually someone’ll publish a book talking more about how the games are made. Either that, or meet someone who’s actually worked on ‘em. Ash knows there’s about no chance of that happenin’. 

He hangs around a bunch of hours more. The library’s his favorite place. He feels a kinda’ calm here that he can’t get nowhere else. He likes how quiet and big it is. There’s always a fair amount of people, ‘cept near closing time, when it thins out a lot. But never so many that Ash feels caged in or nothin’. Plus the architecture is beautiful, and it’s got so many books, even fast as he reads, he knows he couldn’t ever get through all of ‘em. He loves to read. Loves to learn stuff.

He’s just gotten through about ten different books ‘bout the French Revolution and the French Terror, all the way through the rise and fall of Napoleon. So he grabs a couple books about the reestablishment of the Bourbon Monarchy and King Louis-Philip, a couple more on Charles-Louis Napoleon Bonaparte and his rise to power. He’s mostly interested in the economic and social climate leading up to that grab for power in France. It was weird to him, the way the same mistakes were made again and again throughout history, nobody ever learnin’ nothin’ it seemed like. Every known political system throughout civilized history had failed on one level or another. Part of it he knew was human nature. People were self-destructive and there wasn’t nothin’ nobody could do about that. Another part was that people liked bein’ told what to do. They liked havin’ someone to lead ‘em and take responsibility for ‘em, and there was always some asshole who was more than willing to give it to ‘em and take control. All of ‘em were power freaks, and most people didn’t like havin’ to think for themselves. They always wanted a figure head to represent ‘em and make the decisions. Unrest, dissatisfaction, greed, power, it always led to insurrections and so-called revolutions and uprisings. People didn’t even understand what the word revolution meant though. Revolution meant a return to the status quo. It was evident in the word itself, but people twisted it all the time to mean what they wanted it to mean, or what their experiences were with rebellion against an established system. But it always resulted in exactly what it was defined as. A revolution. A coming around again to where it began. People didn’t think.

Whatever. He gets through those books in a couple hours.

He wanders around for a bit after that, grabbing some random books about applied physics and nuclear fusion, a book on advanced biochemistry and another on cluster algebra and discrete math. He’s really interested in infinity and its relation to abstractions, and how that contrasts with more concrete sets and functions. 

He picks up a few collections of poetry. Emily Dickinson and T.S. Elliot.

He’s not really great with poetry. He understands all about it technically. The different structures and forms and meters. He’s usually able to pick up on the metaphors and meanings buried in the text. He just… doesn’t relate to it much, he guesses. Probably ‘cause he didn’t have nothin’ of any value in him.

Griff loved poetry though.

He used to sit with Ash out on their porch every night and read to him. Ash remembers sitting in his lap, leaning back against his brother’s chest, one of Griff’s arms wrapped around him while he held whatever book of poetry he was reading from in his other hand. He remembers how warm Griff’s body had felt against his back, how safe he’d felt. Like nothing in the world could hurt him. 

Ash shoves the memories from his mind, struggling to carry all the books in his arms as he makes his way to the reading room.

His strength flags halfway there, and he ends up dropping a bunch of ‘em like an idiot. 

“… Damn it.” He mutters, dropping down onto his knees. He sets the rest of the stack aside, starting to gather the fallen books. 

“Oh, you poor dear, let me help with that.”

Ash feels himself stiffen at the approach of one of the librarians, her presence looming over him.

“I’m alright.” He tries, wanting her to go away. 

She doesn’t listen, stooping down and beginning to gather the books for him.

“Don’t be silly darling, let me…”

Here it comes.

“… Oh. Are you helping to gather research for one of the adults here?” 

Ash can feel the scowl twisting his features.

This kind of shit got real old, real fast.

People had some kinda fuckin’ stupid notion that age determined intelligence. 

“No. They’re for me.” He answers flatly. 

When he looks up at the woman, she’s got that amused, condescending expression on her face that the tutors Dino hired got all the time. She doesn’t believe him. He really doesn’t give a shit.

“Oh, aren’t you sweet. Are you here with a parent? An older sibling? If you’ll just tell me where they are I can…”

“I’m here alone. And like I told ya, the books are for me lady. I don’t need no help.”

The cheerful expression drops from the librarian’s face, and she leans back.

“Well you don’t have to be so rude young man.” She says, her voice empty of the saccharine sweet tone she’d used on him before.

“And you should probably learn to listen better to kids.” 

Ash doesn’t care if he’s bein’ rude. He wanted to be left alone. Adults never fuckin’ listened. They thought kids were stupid and whatever they had to say didn’t matter ‘cause they assumed it was stupid too. Fuck. It was worse ‘cause she just assumed stuff about him and his abilities without knowing jack shit.

The lady looks truly offended now, but Ash just ignores her, gathering his books back up into his arms and struggling back to his feet.

He’s relieved that she doesn’t follow him, barely managing to keep the books balanced in his arms by the time he reaches one of the long tables in the reading room, dumping the texts down onto the surface.

He spends the next few hours reading, until it’s well past noon. He makes sure to replace all the books where he found them when he’s done. The ones he didn’t finish, he’ll grab the next time he’s here.

He wishes he could take out a library card and bring the books with him, but Dino wouldn’t allow that. He wouldn’t allow for any type of record of Ash in the public system. If he took out a library card, and Dino found out, he’d be done for.

So he puts the books back and wanders around Manhattan for a while after, paying for a soft pretzel at the stand outside the library and nibbling slowly on it as he walks from block to block. He likes looking in the windows of all the high-end retail shops and seeing what wares they offer. He can’t afford none of it, but he doesn’t care. He just likes to look and see what kinda’ trends are takin’ shape and all. He walks past an electronics store and sees that same Atari machine that Alex had displayed in one of the windows. He smiles to himself, staring at it. Home gaming consoles and game titles like that were probably gonna become a big industry, he thinks, but they were gonna have to get the price down if they wanted to sell more units, and they were gonna have to be careful not to invest too much in any one title. Right now there were only a handful of those games available. If they wanted more success, they were gonna have to get more variety. Other companies would come in with their own versions of gaming consoles soon, that was a given, and that would inject the market with the kind of energy you could only get from competition. Ash was gonna be interested in seeing that play out and seeing what kinds of developments were made in the industry because of it. Same as with home computers and all that. All that stuff interested him.

He takes off finally, worried someone’ll see him loitering around and call the cops. He jumps the subway down to Brooklyn and walks around ‘till he comes across a junkyard he’s been foolin’ around in lately. 

He likes it here. Nobody’s ever around and he likes to pick through all the junk they got. He thinks sometimes if he looks enough, he’ll find all the right parts to start buildin’ his own computer and everything. It’s not so easy though. All the raw kinda’ materials are so specific and the chance’s ‘a findin’ exactly what he needs ain’t all that great. Still, he’s already found some parts he can use, which he’s been stashin’ in a locker at a public pool. He’d bought a pad lock and nobody’d broken in yet, though he knew there was always the chance. He didn’t have nowhere else to put the stuff though. He couldn’t haul it around with him all the time, so it was the best he had. 

He spends a little while doing that, pulls a few circuit boards outta different appliances that he might be able to use, but for the most part, he doesn’t really find nothin’ useful. After about an hour he just starts chuckin’ rocks at the windows of junk cars and kicking around debris. 

He needs a watch at some point, he thinks, as he looks up at the sky, tryin’ to figure out what time it is. 

It looks like maybe four or five, and he should probably head back before it starts to get dark and look for a place to stay. Maybe he’ll pick up some food along the way. He’s not too hungry, but he guesses he should eat. 

He’s glad he hasn’t had to spend much of his cash these last couple days. He wouldn’t have to hook for the rest of the week, if he played it smart.

He thinks of Suzy though, remembering what he told her about gettin’ a gun for protection. He should stop by to see her anyway, see if she did like he told her, make sure she and the other girls were doin’ alright. 

//

Ash hangs around close to New York Harbor for a while. He picked up a muffin and a soda from a general store before comin’ here, but he couldn’t really eat too much, so he’s sittin’ along a concrete parapet, kicking his heels against the wall while he rips off pieces of his food and tosses ‘em to the seagulls.

He’s thinkin’ of Griff again.

There’s a big pond close to where he used to live, back in Cape Cod. Griff had used to take him out on it to go fishin’ in a rickety little boat they had. It was always just the two of ‘em, 

Griff had always made Ash stand still before they went out while he slathered sunscreen all over his face and arms and back. Ash remembers he’d always complain about how greasy the stuff was and Griff would just laugh and ruffle his hair and tell him it was so his skin wouldn’t burn.

“ _You’ve got really pale skin, Ash._ ” He would say. “ _If you don’t wear this, you’re gonna get red all over and it’s gonna really hurt._ ”

He’d always make Ash wear a big hat with a big brim too, and it’d just be the two of them sittin’ out there on the water with their fishing poles. Ash remembers catchin’ a fish once, and Griff had helped him reel it in. Ash had been so excited, but then he’d wanted to throw the fish back. He remembers this awful feelin’ he’d had, watching this poor little animal wriggling around on the hook. He couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how the fish was alive and how desperately it wanted to live, how hard it struggled to free itself and make it back to the water. There’d been a sick, horrified sense in him when he thought about how easy it would be to end the fishes life and the finality of that, and he’d started cryin’ just thinkin’ about it, begging Griff to put the fish back.

Griff had promised him after that, whenever they went fishin’, they’d always throw the fish back.

They’d gotten to go out only a few times more before Griff had gotten drafted, and then Ash had been alone.

He tears the rest of the muffin apart, tossing the pieces into the water. He wraps his arms around himself and watches the birds swoop down and snatch them up.

The heatwave from the last day seems to be letting up, a bite to the air as the sun moves on its course towards the horizon. 

He sits there a few minutes longer before finally slipping down from the parapet, back to the sidewalk. He keeps his arms tight around his torso, his head down as he makes his way back to the subways, bound for Manhattan, and West 42nd street, Times Square.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much to all my readers and reviewers! Please let me know what you think of the latest chapter if you get the chance, and thank you again!

Ash pays the guy at the desk for the night. He doesn’t wanna pay for more than one night, ‘cause that’ll look weird for a kid.

The hotel is shoddy, but it makes it more likely nobody’ll ask no questions, at least. There ain’t no rooms on the first floor, which kinda’ sucks, but it’s fine. Ash made sure he got one on the next floor up and right by the stairs, so if he had to split fast, it’d just be a few feet outside his door and he’d be out on the street again, or if things got desperate, he could just jump out the window.

He trudges up the stairs, clutching the winter coat Suzy’s gotten him to his chest.

She didn’t have to do that. Ash hadn’t even known what to say when he’d found her and she’d smiled big and bright at him before handing him over a jacket that looked almost new. A big, puffy coat that was a hell of a lot warmer than the jean jacket he’d been walkin’ around in the last few days. 

He’d tried givin’ her money for it, but she’d kept refusin’, shaking her head and tellin’ him no. 

“ _It’s one of my kid’s old coats baby_.” She’d told him. “ _The lil brat done went ahead and grew outta it already. I swear, that boy’s gonna end up bein’ a giant, the rate he’s goin’. He’s younger ‘n you, but already gotta be a couple inches taller and a hell of a lot bigger all ‘round. Don’t worry ‘bout it sweetheart_.”

Ash had told her thank you, but he still doesn’t feel like it’s enough. He wasn’t used to people just givin’ him shit, but he also knew Suzy was a good person and she meant it when she said he could have the coat for nothin’. He’d told her she was a good mom, and that her kids were lucky to have her, and then she’d gotten all teary eyed, which Ash hadn’t wanted. She told him he could live with her if he needed some place to stay, but like he always did when she offered, he just shook his head and told her he couldn’t. He never explained why. Tellin’ anyone the real reasons would just put ‘em in danger.

He’d asked her if she’d gotten a gun yet, and she’d said no. 

“ _You gotta get one Suzy. And the rest of the girls_.” Ash told her again. “ _I know they’re kinda expensive, but just save up. I’ll save up for you guys too. I’d get one for you myself, but you should get a permit in case the cop’s get weird if ya have to shoot somebody. I’ll show ya how to aim and stuff too. You don’t even gotta kill nobody if you know how to aim right. Just shoot ‘em in the leg. It ain’t like in movies either, where people get shot and then get up and run all around. You shoot somebody, they’re goin’ down and stayin’ there, believe me_.”

Suzy told him she had enough money saved up already to get a gun, and promised him she’d get one soon.

He worried about her and the others. This was a fucked up business to be in, but there wasn’t nothin’ else any of ‘em could do. They were stuck, all of ‘em, for one reason or another.

He shoves the thoughts from his mind, finding his door easy.

He makes sure to check the room out, lookin’ in the bathroom and under the bed and all over before goin’ back to the door and lockin’ it. There’s no chain, which sucks, so Ash drags a chest of shitty lookin’ drawers over and puts it against the door. He goes to the window after that, checkin’ to make sure it locks. There’s some ratty lookin’ curtains over it, and he pulls those shut.

Some people’d think he was bein’ paranoid, but he wasn’t. There were all kindsa’ creeps and pervs and thieves just waitin’ to fuck with you if you let ‘em. 

Ash dumps all his shit out on the bed.

He’d gone back to that same convenience store from a week and a half ago after talkin’ to Suzy and the girls for a while, picked up more shit. A six pack of Coke this time, a couple a’ bags of chips and pretzels. He didn’t trust the sandwiches they had there, so he skipped on that, but he got himself a couple oranges and a banana. He got a candy bar too. A Hershey’s. Can’t remember the last time he ate one of them. Musta’ been back in Cape Cod. He doesn’t… he knows he shouldn’t eat nothin’ like that, but… but he’d been eatin’ whatever he wanted the last few days, and wasn’t nobody here to stop him now, so it’d be okay. 

He takes his jacket off, emptying the pockets and layin’ it next to the one Suzy gave him, along with his revolver. He’s still got them circuit boards on him. Didn’t feel like goin’ all the way to where he had his other junk stashed. He guesses he could get a backpack or somethin’ and hall some of it around with him, though that would make it more likely still he’d get robbed, or at least, someone would probably try. 

He’s got about fourteen and a half bucks left after payin’ for the room and everythin’ else. It won’t be enough for another night in a hotel, but it’ll be plenty to feed him for the next few days. He’ll maybe try for a shelter tomorrow, but after that he’ll have to get back to hookin’. Hopefully by then his backside won’t be so torn up no more, so he can start makin’ some more cash. Suckin’ guys off and givin’ him hand jobs wasn’t makin’ him enough, and anyway, any chick could do that for ‘em. Guys picked a little kid like him up, it was usually ‘cause they wanted to fuck him.

He doesn’t wanna think about that now though. 

He had a backpack when he’d first hopped the bus to New York. He remembers he’d stuffed it full of shit that wouldn’t help no one. Stupid things like children’s books and stuffed animals and a few clothes. Course he hadn’t taken no money or food or nothin’. He’d been a little kid who’d never known about anything outside of his hometown. First night he fell asleep out on the streets and he’d woken up the next day and found his backpack gone, along with everythin’ he’d put in it.

He remembers he’d looked all over for it, and when he couldn’t find it, he’d started cryin’, because the backpack had had Leo in it. Leo was a stuffed lion that Griff had given him for his fifth birthday, and Ash had used to carry Leo around with him everywhere. After Griff had left, Leo had been Ash’s only friend…

Ash thinks about it a lot, the day Griff left. He can still remember it plain as if it’d just happened.

His big brother had left on a greyhound that day, the same as him a year later. Ash remembers walking with him to the bus stop. Dad hadn’t come along, but that was normal by then. Him and Griff never really saw Dad much those days, ‘cept comin’ and goin’. They hadn’t had dinner with him or watched a movie with him or played any games with him in years. Ash couldn’t remember really ever doin’ any of that stuff with Dad, though Griff had told him Dad used to be different. That when Griff was growin’ up, Dad had spent lots of time with him, used to help him with his homework and take him out to see movies and take him for ice cream and stuff. 

Ash had used to sit and listen to Griff tell him all this and wonder what was wrong with him, that Dad didn’t want to do the same with him. When he’d cry about it, Griff would tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That Dad just had his own problems, and those problems had more to do with Ash’s Mom than with Ash himself. But she’d left too, and Ash wondered why. He still wonders why. He can’t even remember her, ‘cause she’d left right after he’d been born, and she’d never come back. Griff showed him a picture of her once. She was beautiful, and Ash guesses that’s where he’d gotten his looks from, ‘cause he looked just like her really. He used to wonder, and he thinks, whatever had made her leave was maybe the same thing that made Dad not want nothin’ to do with him.

He remembers he’d stood there with Griff at the bus stop, waiting for the greyhound to come. He’d been holdin’ on to his big brother’s hand, and he’d been scared. He’d been so scared, ‘cause he just had the worst feelin’ that he wasn’t ever gonna see Griff again, and if he didn’t have Griff, he didn’t have nobody.

When the bus had come into view, Ash had started cryin’ again, and he remembers Griff bendin’ down and pullin’ him into a hug.

“ _Don’t cry Aslan_.” He’d said. “ _Don’t cry little buddy. It’ll be alright_.”

“ _But what if I don’t ever see you again_?” Ash had asked, and sayin’ it out loud had just made him cry harder. He’d hugged Griff back, and he remembers feelin’ so desperate. Frantic with terror. He didn’t even really know why. Just this awful dread he’d felt.

Griff had smiled at him, and Ash remembers his big, warm hand coming down to rest against the crown of his head.

“ _I’ll see you again Ash. I promise. I promise I’ll come back.”_

_“But what if you don’t? You’re goin’ to Vietnam! That place is 8500 miles from here Griff! And it’s all jungles and stuff, I read_!”

Griff had laughed, shaking his head. He’d had this amazed look on his face, Ash remembers.

“ _Where’d you read that? My little brother the genius. Shouldn’t you be readin’ Scholastic books or somethin’_?”

But Ash hadn’t cared about none of that. He didn’t feel proud that his big brother seemed amazed by him because his big brother was _leaving_ , and Ash knew when he went, he wasn’t gonna have anyone, and Griff might never come home. Griff might be _killed_.

And Griff never did come home. One of more than 50 thousand young men. The Vietnam war had been a sick joke. Ash had read all about it. Just more political stupidity and the US trying to impose its bullshit notions and system on another country, trying to control the political landscape for its own interests. That’s what Griff had gotten killed for. ‘Least, that was all Ash could assume had happened to his big brother. 

“ _I’m scared Griff_.” Ash had told him right before Griff had gotten on the bus. “ _I’m scared what’s gonna happen when you’re not here_.”

And what’d happened was…

Dad hadn’t wanted him around during the summer, buggin’ him and gettin’ in his hair. Without Griff, there wasn’t nobody to look after him, and so Dad had sent him off during the day for Little League. And what had happened… what had…

Ash stumbles back from the bed, and he’s gaspin’ for air like he hadn’t been breathin’. For a second, he don’t even know where he is, and the panic is crushing in his chest. He clutches at it, tearing at the material of his shirt.

He… he hates when this happens. Like he loses time or somethin’, and he don’t know how long it’s been since he was last aware. If it’s been seconds or minutes or hours. 

He sucks in deep breathes through his mouth and nose.

Calm down… calm down… he needed to just… calm down…

His legs feel weak, and he staggers forward, his knees hitting the mattress of the bed. He turns, collapsing onto it, still clutching at his shirt.

Jesus, he needs to… needed to…

He shakes his head, hands clutching at the ratty blanket covering the bed until his knuckles bleed white.

A shower… He could take a shower. He felt grimy as hell anyway. Hadn’t washed in like three or four days or somethin’. 

He sits there on the bed a minute more, tryin’ to get his breathin’ to slow down, before finally pushing himself back to his feet. He pulls his shoes off with his toes and grabs his gun before makin’ for the bathroom. 

It’s fuckin’ nasty, but it’s better than nothin’. He strips his shirt off, and then his pants and underwear. He lays his gun down on the tank of the toilet.

There’s a shitty, fogged out mirror over the sink, and Ash looks at himself in it.

He’s bruised all over, big, black and blue splotches stretching over large swaths of his skin, some older ones fading to green and yellow. He frowns at himself. He looks like shit. Scrawny and pasty and weak. His ribs stick out stark, his hands and feet black with dirt and grime. His hair’s greasy and sticks matted to his scalp and forehead. His backsides still kinda’ torn up from that bastard Kippard, and it’ll sting probably when the water hits it. He stinks too, he thinks. He’s gotten so used to smellin’ bad though, sometimes he can’t tell. 

Ash don’t really mind bein’ dirty, but he knows it turns people off, and if he’s gonna pick John’s up, he’s gotta keep a little clean.

He turns away from the mirror and makes for the shower stall. It’s barely big enough to fit him, and he don’t know how any grown person could manage. He turns the water on, and the pipes rattle and hiss for several seconds before the shower head sputters and spurts water in a harsh, uneven spray. Ash tests the temperature with his fingers. After a couple minutes, he figures it ain’t gonna get any warmer, so he just steps in. The water is kinda cold, but it’s alright, and he stands there, resting his arms and forehead against the wall, letting the water smack against his shoulders and back. 

His eyes slip closed.

He misses Griff. 

He wishes Griff had never gone away. He thinks… sometimes he thinks, if he coulda’ just stayed… 

Aww, but what was the point in wishin’ for somethin’ that could never be? 

But sometimes Ash felt so lonely it was like he was chokin’ on it and he couldn’t breathe or nothin’. Sometimes he was so lonely, he thought it’d be better bein’ dead then feelin’ like that anymore. ‘Cause it hurt. It hurt so bad sometimes, and…

And he’s cryin’ again. Stupid, hot tears sliding down his face. He grits his teeth against ‘em, hands curling to fists and pressing against the stall. 

He sniffles and whimpers a little and lets himself work through it this time, ‘cause no ones around to hear anyhow, and eventually it stops and he gets outta the shower.

There weren’t no towels, so Ash makes his way back into the room carryin’ his clothes in his arms and sits on the bed, waitin’ for the air to dry him off.

He pulls a can of Coke free, flippin’ the tab and takin’ a swig. He doesn’t wanna eat any of the fruit yet, since it’ll go bad overnight if he can’t finish it, so he opens a bag of chips and nibbles at that for a while.

He feels exhausted, but he probably won’t be able to sleep much. He can’t ever sleep too good. His dreams keep him from it. They’re always too real.

He’s still a little damp after about twenty minutes, but he hates sittin’ around naked, so he pulls his clothes on anyway. He sweeps the crumbs from his chips off the mattress, onto the floor, and gathers the rest of his stuff up. He sticks his money in the pockets of his jeans, and remembers his gun in the bathroom. He tracks back across the room, grabbing it up. He’s gonna need to get some more bullets soon, he thinks, as he sticks the revolver under the bed’s pillow. He’d met this black guy a few months back who sold all kindsa’ weapons and ammo and stuff. He called himself The Fly, which was dumb as hell, but Ash didn’t say nothin’ about that. He was a cool dude otherwise, and Ash’d been buying all that sort of thing from him exclusively since they met. He always knew Ash was good for it, even if he couldn’t always pay him right away, and Ash appreciated that too. Not many people’d give you a break ‘round here. Fly’d probably be hangin’ around his usual spot tomorrow, and Ash thinks he’ll pay him a visit then, see if he can’t get a loader and some ammo for his .45.

He climbs into the bed, laying on top of the blankets and starin’ up at the ceiling.

He doesn’t know how long he lays there for, listenin’ to the sounds outside the window. Sirens and people yelling and fighting, glass breakin’ and shots fired somewhere in the distance.

He remembers Griff holdin’ onto him tight at the bus stop. The scratch of his whiskers against his cheek as he’d pressed his hand to the back of Ash’s head, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss hard against his cheek. Remembers clinging back to his big brother, and the awful fear.

“ _I love you Aslan_.” Griff had said, and Ash had started crying.

“ _I love you too Griff_.”

And then Griff had gotten on the bus. He’d turned once before the doors closed, smiling at Ash, waving goodbye. Ash had stood there, looking back, tears hot down his face. And then the doors had closed and the bus had pulled away.

Ash remembers he’d run after it. He’d run after the bus, like somehow that would stop it. Like somehow, if he could just catch up to it, he could make Griff get off and stay. Stay with him.

But he’d lost it. The bus had just kept getting’ farther and farther away, no matter how hard Ash ran, until finally it disappeared completely, and Ash didn’t see Griff no more after that. 

He didn’t see Griff no more, ‘cept in his dreams.

And when he falls asleep he dreams of Griff again.

He dreams of his brother, dead in a stinking wet ditch, his body half rotted away, maggots and rats chewing at what’s left of him, deep and lost in the unknowable scape of a black forest of endless night.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the tags for this chapter guys. It involves a flashback to Ash's past in Cape Cod.

_Ash hugs his stuffed lion to his chest and tries not to cry._

_He doesn’t wanna be here, with all these other kids who don’t like him or wanna talk to him or nothin’._

_He misses Griff. He misses him so bad, it’s like he’s gonna die from how much._

_He’s pushed himself up against the furthest corner of the dugout bench, tryin’ to make himself small as possible, so maybe the other kids won’t see him and start harassing him like sometimes they did at school. The kids at school didn’t like him so much ‘cause he was better at it than them. They didn’t like him ‘cause he was always gettin’ all A’s on everything and everything was easy. They knew Griff was gone too, so they’d started beating him up sometimes. The older kids. They beat him up sometimes during recess and lunch break and stuff, and a few times after school. Ash never cried, and told ‘em they were stupid, and that always just made ‘em hit him harder. But Ash thinks Griff would be proud of him, for bein’ so tough and brave and all._

_But summer was here now, and Dad didn’t want him around. He told Ash, a few days ago. He told him “You’re a god damned trouble maker Ash. Jesus, why’re you always hangin’ around here? You’re in the god damned way all the time!” And Ash had said he was feelin’ lonely over at the house ‘cause Griff wasn’t there no more and he didn’t have any friends or nothin’._

_“I ain’t gonna let you mess it up with my woman, boy.” Dad had told him, jamming him in the chest with his finger. It’d hurt and Ash had stumbled back, kinda scared. “I ain’t gonna let a trouble making brat like you scare my woman off, just like ya did the last time!”_

_So Dad had signed him up for the little league team, so that he wouldn’t be in the way, and wouldn’t mess it up with Jennifer, even though Jennifer said she didn’t mind havin’ Ash around the house. Jennifer was always real nice to him and all, and Ash liked her a lot. He knew she wasn’t his Mom or nothin’, but he liked her a lot anyway. But Dad didn’t want him messin’ it up with her, and so he signed him up for little league. Ash had begged not to have to go. He promised he’d be good and not come over to the restaurant no more or nothin’. He said he promised he wouldn’t mess it up with Jennifer. He promised. But Dad made him go anyway._

_He misses Griff so much, and he can’t stop it when he starts cryin’ then. The other kids’ll see him and probably start makin’ fun of him and stuff, but Ash can’t help it. He isn’t any good at sports or nothin’. None of the other kids ever choose him when they’re in gym class and they have to choose who they want on their team. Ash is always the last kid standin’ around._

_He presses his face to his stuffed lion and tries not to shake or make any noise or nothin’. He knows he’s being a wimp, but he misses Griff so awful, and it hurts ‘cause Dad hates him so much._

_He didn’t mean to be a trouble maker. He really didn’t. He tried to be good. But he guesses he just couldn’t be. He guesses he just wasn’t no good no how._

_“What’s the matter, son?”_

_Ash starts, looking up and seeing a man standing over him. He’s smiling, but he looks horrible, Ash thinks. He’s got a big, bushy beard, and his teeth are all yellow, and worst of all, he’s got a big, awful scar right down the side of his face, right up on his forehead and disappearing down into his beard. Ash feels his heart slam hard in his chest, and he pushes farther back into the corner of the bench, not even sure why he feels so suddenly scared._

_The man keeps smiling, and then he kneels down, so that he’s more eye level with Ash._

_“Don’t be frightened son. I know I’m probably pretty scary looking, huh? With my big old scar and everything?”_

_Ash stares wide eyed at him for a moment, before giving a shallow nod._

_The man laughs, and it’s a friendly laugh, and Ash feels himself relax a little._

_“Don’t worry. It happens all the time. My name’s Robert. Robert Peterson. It’s good to meet you son. What’s your name?”_

_The man holds out his hand like he wants Ash to shake it. He remembers Griff always telling him to not be rude when someone offered their hand to shake. That he should always shake back._

_So he uncurls his arms from around himself and goes to take the man’s hand. It’s warm and a little damp, and swallows Ash’s up whole. He doesn’t like the way the man squeezes._

_“So, your name?” The man, Robert, asks again._

_Ash blinks._

_“A… Aslan.” He stammers out. “C-Callenresse.”_

_“Aslan! That’s a really cool name!” Robert says, and he sounds like he means it. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with that name before.”_

_Ash can’t help the small swell of pride in his chest, and he finds himself smiling back a little._

_“It means dawn, o… or at least, that’s what my dad says my mom told him, ‘cause I was born at dawn, he said.”_

_“Really? Well that’s fascinating Aslan. Really cool!”_

_“B-But everyone calls me Ash though, s-so you can call me Ash too, if you want.”_

_“Oh yeah? Why do they call you Ash?”_

_Ash shrugs, looking away._

_“I guess ‘cause, when I was really little, I got into the fireplace, and I got all th-this soot all over the house, a… and so my brother Griff started callin’ me Ash boy, a… and it just stuck, I guess.”_

_“Oh, that’s cool. How old’s your brother?”_

_Ash frowns, looking down at the lion in his hands._

_Thinkin’ about Griff makes him feel even more lonely, and his eyes are stinging again. He shouldn’t cry. It’s stupid, but he can’t help it._

_“He’s eighteen.” He mutters, and he lifts a hand, wiping at his eyes._

_“Oh? So he’s a lot older than you.”_

_“Y-yeah. I guess. We didn’t have the same mom or nothin’.”_

_“He must look out for you though. That’s nice.”_

_Ash looks up at Robert, and he can’t stop the tears which stream from his eyes, down his face. He knows he looks like a stupid wimp, but he can’t help it._

_“How come you’re crying?” Robert asks, and he reaches up, his hand coming against Ash’s cheek._

_Ash blinks at him._

_“… My brother got sent to the war.” He says, his voice small and whimpering. “They sent him to Vietnam.”_

_“Oh…” Robert starts. “That’s too bad.”_

_Ash shakes his head, wiping at his eyes._

_“I’m scared he won’t ever come back. They… they said there’s a lot of people not coming back, when they get sent over to Vietnam, a-and sometimes you never find out what happened to ‘em at all!”_

_Robert’s looking at him with a frown on his face, nodding like he understands._

_“War’s are tough. But I’m sure he’ll make it home, Ash.”_

_Ash keeps looking up at Robert, tryin’ to see if he means it, or if he’s just being mean like the kids at school sometimes._

_“Really?” He asks finally, and Robert smiles again, nodding._

_“Sure. You know, I was in a war too, and I made it back just fine.”_

_Ash’s eyes go wide, surprised._

_“Really?!” He asks again, an almost painful hope blooming in his chest._

_“Sure.” Robert nods. “It was called the Korean war. It was bad too, but I made it back. I got this scar there.” He lifts a hand, running his index finger down the gnarled skin on his face._

_Something uncomfortable stirs in Ash’s gut, watching Robert touching his scar like that. It’s almost like he likes touching it, or somethin’._

_“Oh.” He says._

_“So how about your mommy and daddy? They must miss your brother too, huh?”_

_Robert’s hand comes down from touching his scar, and he puts it on Ash’s shoulder, squeezing._

_Ash swallows, and he looks away._

_“My mom left when I was born.” He admits weakly. He doesn’t know why he feels so embarrassed all of a sudden. Like he’s ashamed of it or somethin’. He guesses it is shameful. All the other kids at school have mom’s, and they make fun of him ‘cause he doesn’t. And Dad was always so angry about it still, all the time._

_“Really?” Robert asks. “Then… what about your dad? At least you’ve got him, don’t you?”_

_Again Ash shakes his head, and he’s crying again._

_“My dad doesn’t like me. He… he says it’s my fault Mom left, and he doesn’t want me around, which is why he sent me here. Griff was the one who took care of me all the time, but he… ‘cause he’s gone now, Dad don’t want me around no more, ‘cause he thinks I’m gonna mess it up with his new girlfriend, so he sent me here, even though I’m not even any good at baseball or nothin’.”_

_Robert keeps looking at him, his hand still on Ash’s shoulder, squeezing._

_“… That’s awful Ash.” He says. “So you don’t have anybody?”_

_Ash shakes his head, hugging his lion to his chest again._

_“Don’t you have any friends though? At school?”_

_Again, he shakes his head._

_“The other kids don’t like me either. They pick on me and stuff. The older kids. Th-they beat me up sometimes. Not too bad, but they’re pretty mean. I’m not good at making friends, I guess…”_

_“… Well, what would you say if I told you I wanted to be your friend Ash?”_

_Ash swallows, turning and looking back up at Robert._

_Robert smiles at him, and he doesn’t seem so scary anymore. He’s been so nice, and he hadn’t made fun of Ash once, even after telling him all that stuff. People usually made fun of him, when they learned how messed up his home life was._

_“Y-you wanna be my friend?” He asks, and Robert nods._

_“Of course. You’re a good boy Ash, I can tell. You just need someone to give you a chance, that’s all.”_

_Ash almost starts crying again, and he doesn’t know why. It makes his eyes burn, Robert bein’ so nice to him and all._

_“And hey, you know, I’m the coach of the little league team, so if you’re worried about the other kids picking on you, you don’t have to be, ‘cause I’ll look out for you and make sure no one hurts you. Okay?”_

_“O-okay.” Ash says._

_Robert smiles some more._

_“Say, you want me to show you how to swing a baseball bat? I bet if you can hit a home run, all the kids will think you’re pretty awesome and they’ll want to be your friend then. What do you say?”_

_Ash smiles. A big, real smile. Like he doesn’t think he’s smiled since Griff left._

_“Yeah!” He nearly shouts._

_He feels his face grow warm then, embarrassed over his excitement. It wasn’t that big a deal, but he felt so good, suddenly. Being paid attention to and stuff. Being talked to like he wasn’t… wasn’t just a trouble maker and all. He felt so good about it, he couldn’t help but be excited._

_Robert smiles at him again, standing from the bench. He offers his hand and Ash takes it. He isn’t scared of Robert anymore. Not when Robert was so nice and everything._

_He… he wishes his own dad was as nice._

_“Now come stand over here Ash. That’s right. Right here on the plate.”_

_Ash does like he’s told, and Robert stands behind him._

_He presses close, his shadow falling over Ash, bent over his shoulders._

_“Now here, you hold the bat like this.” He says, his voice soft against Ash’s ear._

_He moves Ash’s body around, pushing and pulling his arms, and Ash ignores the nervous tingle in his gut. He’s scared of embarrassing himself, is all. He’s never swung a baseball bat before._

_“Here, spread your legs a little.” Robert tells him, and his mouth is right up against Ash’s ear, and Ash doesn’t really like the way that feels, but he stands still. Robert kicks his feet apart suddenly, pressing down on his shoulders, and Ash nearly goes down._

_“You’ve got to bend your knees. Yes, just like that.” Robert tells him. His hands are still on Ash’s shoulders, and he squeezes gently. “Very good. Now…”_

_Robert is right up against him now, pressing against his back as he reaches around, his hands closing over Ash’s own on the bat._

_“You swing just like this.”_

_Robert guides him through the motions, back and forward, back and forward._

_“That’s right. That’s very good Ash. Get your hips into it. Just like that.”_

_Robert sounds weird to Ash, his voice suddenly thicker, his breath heavy at his neck, like he’s trying to catch it. Ash doesn’t think he should be breathing so hard, they weren’t doing anything very difficult. But maybe Robert was just old. Old people sometimes lost their breath real easy, Ash had noticed._

_“That’s fine. You’re going to do just fine.” Robert whispers against his ear. “Just fine Ash.”_

_//_

_May passes into June, and the days grow almost unbearably hot, the humidity almost suffocating in its intensity._

_Still, every day since school ended, Ash has been coming here in the early afternoons, playing baseball, getting better. Coach Robert had been right. Ash still couldn’t hit a homerun or nothin’ like that, but he was pretty good at hitting the ball now. Better than a lot of the kids, and just like coach had promised, they all seemed to like him a lot more now. They were a lot nicer. Coach knew a lot of things, and Ash knew it was smart to listen to him now. He didn’t feel so lonely anymore, ‘cause he got to come here every day and have friends._

_It’s about four o’clock now in the afternoon, and the sun’s blazin’ in the sky, and Ash is up to bat again. He don’t feel so good though. The dirt from the mound keeps kicking up from the hot breeze which has been blowin’ steadily harder for the past half hour or so, gettin’ dust in Ash’s eyes. It stings, and the heat from the sun is beatin’ down on him somethin’ awful. He hasn’t said nothin’, but he feels pretty dizzy, and his arms and legs feel weak. Like he’s gonna pass out or somethin’. He doesn’t want to disappoint coach though, or any of his new friends, so he keeps standin’ there on the mound, tryin’ to hold the bat up steady like he’s supposed to. The kid in front of him who’s supposed to throw the ball looks blurry and smudged, like a water color painting that’s gotten water thrown on it._

_Coach’d said he’d meant to bring some water and juice boxes today, but he forgot ‘em at his house this morning. The other kids all had lunches and stuff their parents had packed for ‘em, so they all got to eat and drink and stuff about an hour before. But Ash didn’t get nothin’, ‘cause Dad never packed him any kind of lunch, and Jennifer had been too busy at the diner to remember this morning to make him anything. So he hadn’t really had nothin’ since dinner last night. He feels pretty sick, really._

_The kid throws the ball, but Ash doesn’t even see him do it, and it hits him square in the face. He goes down like a sack of bricks, and it’s like the world suddenly flipped upside down. Everything rushes up past him so fast, Ash doesn’t know what he’s lookin’ at, until suddenly he’s starin’ into the sky, blue and hot above him, the sun a white, pulsing spark burning his eyes._

_He rolls his face away, and then there’s pain in his temple, nasty as it radiates down, driving in waves._

_He tries not to cry, but he can feel the tears hot in his eyes already, and he can’t really help it. It hurts, and he feels so sick._

_“Hey, hey, hey, alright everyone, step back, give him some room.”_

_Coach Robert is there suddenly, kneeling over him, his face concerned._

_“Hey, Ash… you okay? Wow, that was some hit you took.”_

_Ash feels himself get lifted up, and coach’s got him sat up, his hand at his back, the other touching his temple where it hurts most._

_Ash sniffles and cries and starts saying sorry over and over, ‘cause now he’s scared coach is gonna be disappointed in him, and the other kids are gonna start bein’ mean again._

_“Hey, hey now, there’s nothin’ to be sorry about kiddo. You didn’t do anything wrong. Come on now.”_

_Ash clings back to him, pressing his face against his chest and crying harder, and he knows he’s bein’ a big baby, but he can’t help it. He feels coach wrap an arm around him, holdin’ him close._

_“You must be feelin’ pretty bad, huh?”_

_Ash nods against him._

_“I think that’ll do it for baseball today. I’ll see all you guys tomorrow, kay?”_

_Ash hears the rest of the group mutter out their agreement. Coach’s still holdin’ him against his chest, and Ash isn’t gonna complain. He feels safe and protected in coach’s arms._

_After a while, coach finally lets him go, but he keeps his hands on Ash’s shoulders, looking down at him._

_The other boys have already taken off for home, and Ash blinks, surprised. It’s just him and coach on the mound now, the rest of the field empty. He hadn’t realized they’d all left already._

_“Hey Ash, I’m guessing you’re feeling pretty light headed and all. Aren’t you?” Coach Robert asks suddenly, and Ash looks up at him. He wipes at his face, trying to hide his tears, even though he knows coach already heard him cryin’ and all._

_“Y-yeah, I feel kinda sick. Like I’m gonna throw up or somethin’.” He admits weakly._

_Coach smiles at him like that’s okay, and Ash feels so relieved, he almost starts cryin’ again._

_“I don’t want you walking home alone when you feel so sick Ash.” Coach tells him. “How about this. I’ve got plenty of water and juice and snakes at my place. You wanna come on over and we’ll get you feeling all better? I’ve got my car, and it’s got AC, so you can get outta this hot sun right away. What do you say, Ash?”_

_Ash nods right away. That sounds like the best idea ever._

_“And your Dad isn’t gonna mind if you get home a little late, is he?” Coach asks, and Ash shakes his head._

_“Nah uh. Dad won’t care. He doesn’t even notice most of the time when I get home. H-he spends all his time in the diner anyway, s-so it’s usually just me in the house and all.”_

_Coach smiles bigger at him, and Ash smiles back._

_“That’s good Ash. That’s real good. Come on then. Let’s get you loaded into the car.”_

_//_

_Ash doesn’t understand what’s happening._

_He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t understand, and he tries to ask, he tries to ask coach Robert to stop, but he can’t make any words come out, he can’t talk, and he can’t move, and coach Robert has got an ugly look on his face now. An ugly, mean look._

_Coach drags him across the room, his hand hard and crushing on Ash’s wrist, and he lifts him up off the floor and slams him down on a bed, and Ash feels sick with fear._

_He tries again to beg coach to stop, but his voice just won’t come out, and then coach snaps at him to stay where he is, and Ash is too scared to do anything. Can only watch as coach walks away, disappearing into another room._

_He comes back out a few seconds later with a towel, and then he’s ballin’ it up and shoving it into Ash’s mouth._

_“Keep your damn mouth shut, you little bastard. You try and scream, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”_

_Ash doesn’t understand. His eyes burn with tears, and he thinks he couldn’t make no sound anyhow. He doesn’t understand, and he’s scared. He’s so scared. He wants Griff. He wants his big brother._

_Coach isn’t coach anymore. He doesn’t look the same. He looks huge. Standing over Ash, and his whole face is changed. His eyes are almost black, the pupils are blown so wide, his expression like somethin’ Ash can’t even explain. Like some kinda’ hunger. He’s lookin’ at Ash like he wants to kill him._

_He reaches out, his hands giant meat hooks, and he shoves Ash back against the pillows like he’s nothing, and then he’s getting up onto the bed too, on his knees, pressing in against Ash._

_Ash tries to push away, to get away, but there’s no where to go, and then then man’s got him caged in, his thick legs on either side of him, and his hands have hold of Ash. Have hold of his shirt. He rips it open. Ash can hear the material tearing, the clatter of buttons as they hit the wood flooring. There’s saliva gathering thick in Ash’s mouth from the towel, and he feels like he can’t breathe, and he can’t see good anymore, ‘cause the burning in his eyes has turned into tears._

_And then the man’s hands are on the waistband of his jeans, and he’s tearing the button open, pulling the zipper down. Thick, bruising fingers jam into the waistband and pull hard, and he’s pulling Ash’s pants off, and his underwear too, and Ash doesn’t understand, and he’s so scared. He starts to sob. He can’t help it. He’s scared, and he doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he knows it isn’t good. He knows he doesn’t want it. He can’t help it, and he starts sobbing, and then his world explodes in pain and bright, blinding light as a hand slaps hard against his face, the crack of knuckles against his eyes, and there’s the taste of metal on his tongue suddenly._

_“Shut the fuck up!” The man screams at him, and he sounds so terrible. Sounds insane. “I’ll fucking kill you right now if you don’t shut up, you fucking little bastard!”_

_Ash tries to be quiet then, because he doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t. He doesn’t. He wants to go home. He wants his father. He wants his daddy. Oh God… God…_

_The man hits him again anyway, even though Ash was quiet, and then he’s got his pants and underwear pulled all the way down to his ankles, and he tears his shirt off the rest of the way, and Ash is naked._

_He’s embarrassed. He feels his face burn along with his eyes, and he wishes he could just disappear then. He wishes he could disappear forever._

_“God… look at that.” The man breathes, and his voice is changed again. Thick and weird._

_Ash looks away when he sees his eyes looking at him down there, between his legs. He looks away. He feels sick._

_“Not even any pubic hair yet. Shit. Look at that. Oh God…”_

_The man’s hand grabs his penis then, and Ash chokes. It feels funny and awful. Ash is the only one who’s ever touched his own penis before. And only when he needed to pee._

_“Fuck, it’s smooth.” The man keeps talking, but Ash can tell he isn’t talking to him. He’s talking to himself. “Like a fuckin’ new born baby.”_

_Ash digs his fingers into the mattress underneath him, and he closes his eyes._

_He doesn’t know what this is. He doesn’t know what’s happening. He wants it to stop, but he knows it won’t. Whatever it is. It won’t stop._

_The man lets him go, and then the room fills up with the sound of him undoing his belt, and Ash’s heart is kicking sick and painful in his chest. He looks back, and the man’s pulled his own pants down, and his own penis looks weird and huge and it’s stickin’ up like Ash ain’t ever seen, and it’s covered in all this dark hair, and Ash thinks he’s gonna throw up. He feels like he’s gonna throw up._

_Spit dribbles past the corners of the towel still shoved in his mouth, wet and slimy down his chin. His head is starting to hurt from crying. His nose stuffed up and he can’t breathe right._

_There’s a hand on his face, fingers digging, cutting into his cheeks, pressing him down hard onto the bed. Ash thinks he’s gonna suffocate, and he starts to flail, fear closing up his throat._

_He stops when the wind is suddenly gone from his lungs, and he realizes now what it’s really like when you can’t breathe. He’d hit him. The man’d hit him, right in the stomach, and the air is suddenly just gone._

_Ash gasps and splutters, desperate and terrified._

_He barely feels it when his legs are pulled up at the knees and apart._

_He feels what happens next though._

_Is this what dying feels like? Is he dying?_

_It hurts so much. He’s being ripped apart from the inside out. Being torn open. He’s dying, he thinks. This must be it. This must be what it is._

_He wouldn’t make it, then._

_He wouldn’t make it._

_He wanted to see Griff just one more time…_

_//_

_Ash’s knees give out halfway back to the house, hands scraping against the hard packed dirt of the road, blowing dust up into his choking lungs._

_He wretches again, but nothin’ comes out. His stomach aches badly. He’s wet down there. Warm, sticky wet all down the inside of his legs and on his backside, and somewhere in the back of his head, he knows he’s bleeding. That it’s blood. His insides feel torn up. It’s like he’s bein’ stabbed up his butt every time he takes a step, and he’s crying and can’t help it, ‘cause it hurts so much. It hurts._

_He’d done something to him. The man. He’d done something terrible. Something really, really bad. Ash feels sick thinking of it. He feels like he needs to throw up, but there’s nothing in his stomach and all that comes out is more spit._

_He gasps, his throat aching, half choking on another sob._

_Oh God…_

_He crawls through the dirt, fingers curling, digging into it. The sun’s starting to go down over the horizon, a burning red lighting the sky ablaze, casting long, black shadows. Home’s still a couple miles away._

_He needed to get up and go. He couldn’t sit here like this. What if… what if the man came back? What if he decided he was gonna kill Ash like he said he would?_

_What was Dad gonna say when he saw him? What was he gonna think?_

_Ash sits, frozen. He can’t stop shaking._

_He’d thought he was going to die._

_He doesn’t understand why he’s still alive._

_The sound of a car rumbling up from behind hits his ears, and Ash panics, scrambling to try and make it back to his feet. The sudden, suffocating fear that he couldn’t be seen. He didn’t want to be seen._

_He stumbles to a row of bushes off the side of the road, falling into them. He can feel the sharp thorns tearing at his skin, pricking at him._

_The car rolls past and keeps going, and Ash sits there, staring after it, large plums of dirt and dust kicking up behind._

_For a long time, he sits there, not moving from his hiding place._

_He can’t stop thinking of it. The feel of the man’s hands on him. The feel of what he’d… what’d he’d done. His face. His eyes. Like… like there was nothing there, just… just nothing._

_“I’ll see you at practice tomorrow, right Ash?” He’d said._

_He’d smiled, and it had been a sick smile._

_Ash hadn’t been able to say anything. He couldn’t say anything._

_“You better not tell anyone, Ash… Or you’ll see what happens.”_

_Ash doesn’t know what he would say. He doesn’t understand what happened._

_Only knows it’s all changed now. Everything’s changed._

_He feels wrong all over. Wrong. Like he isn’t the same person anymore. Like he’s ruined. And there wasn’t no going back._

_Whatever had happened to him… he couldn’t ever go back again._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter guys. If you have a chance, please leave a review! They help me immensely!

The fuckin’ cops get him the next night, along with a couple of the girls, and Ash is almost havin’ a panic attack over the whole thing.

Dino was gonna be so pissed when he found out. He was gonna be pissed as hell, and then he was gonna make Ash pay for being dumb enough to get picked up again. 

Ash knows there’s no point in sweatin’ it out like this, but he can’t help it. He’s freakin’ the fuck out.

It doesn’t help that they pulled him out of the holdin’ cell and stuffed him in this small ass room more than half an hour ago, and ain’t nobody showed up yet. Usually they just booked him and all he had to do was wait ‘til Dino bailed him out and Marvin or one of his shit head lackies came and got him.

He keeps glancin’ at the two way mirror along the left side wall, then the clock above it. 36 minutes. He knows they’re watchin’ him, but he don’t know why. He don’t know what makes this time different than all the others. They booked him on solicitation, like always. Nothin’ special about it. So what the fuck was with makin’ him sit here and sweat it out until someone decided to come and tell him what was gonna happen? He fuckin’ hates cops. Bunch of corrupt jerks on a power trip. Fuckin’ hates ‘em.

He’d managed to toss his gun before they could get a hold of him, but that fuckin’ sucks too, ‘cause now he’s gonna have to buy a new one. And right after he got all hooked up with ammo.

He looks away from the mirror, fixing his eyes on his hands on the table. He’d tripped while tryin’ to run from the cops, scraped the shit outta his palms. They fuckin’ stung like hell. His shoulders hurt too from that bastard cop yanking his arms behind his back and cuffin’ him. 

What the hell’d they have him in here for? He can’t figure it, and it’s got him even jumpier. What were they gonna tell Dino? Fuck… fuck…

It seems like forever before the door finally comes open, and it’s Captain Jenkins that comes in.

Great, Ash thinks. 

Captain Jenkins seemed like an alright guy, but Ash can’t trust him. He can’t trust no cops. Half of ‘em were on Dino’s payroll, and it wasn’t like they were gonna tell him if they were. Cops liked to fuck with your head. They weren’t no different than the rest of the freaks who got their rocks off controlling other people like they were dolls or somethin’. 

Captain Jenkins never did nothin’ real bad to Ash. Not yet, anyway. He was always friendly in that way adults were to him sometimes, like they felt sorry for him and all. It was annoying, but Ash’d take that over the bastards that got a kick outta fuckin’ with you. He still can’t trust him though. You’d have to be an idiot to trust a cop.

Jenkins closes the door, and he smiles at Ash as he moves to take the empty chair across the table.

“Hey there Ash. How’re doin’, son?”

Ash frowns, keepin’ his eyes fixed on his folded hands. His nails are black with caked dirt under ‘em. He knows he looks like shit.

He shrugs.

“Swell, Captain.” He drawls. “The fuckin’ highlight of my day getting’ picked up by the pigs.”

He hears Jenkins sigh, the chair squeaking under his weight at he settles down.

“Sorry Ash. But you know the law. It’s illegal for you to be out there turning tricks. Especially a kid your age. They didn’t hurt ya or anything, did they?”

Ash turns his head aside, glaring at the mirror. He doesn’t bother answerin’ that question. No point.

“… So what’s the deal stuffin’ me in this room?” He asks after a moment, turning back to look at the Captain. “You called Golzine yet or what?”

“Not yet.” Jenkins tells him. He lays a folder on the table, fidgeting with it. Ash glances down at it. Doesn’t look like the file they got on him.

“So then what?” He presses, bringing his eyes back up to the Captain. “How come you’re in here and not one of your rookies? I didn’t do nothin’. Nothin’ enough for you to bother with.”

“Well, Ash… listen. I… I know you aren’t too fond of us here, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but…”

Ash can feel his body tensin’ up bad all of a sudden. He doesn’t like the words comin’ out of Jenkins mouth. He leans back, trying to relax, but the tensions drvin’ up his spine and makin’ his head ache and shit… shit… What the fuck was goin’ on?

“I came in here personally to talk to you Ash, because, well… we kinda’ need a favor from you.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ no cops!” Ash spits. He doesn’t mean to. It just comes flyin’ out. No way. No way, they weren’t gonna make him. No fuckin’ way. Had enough of that shit already. Not since that last mother fucker forced him into givin’ him a blowie. No fuckin’ God damn way.

“Woah, woah, woah, Ash…” Jenkins puts his hands up like he’s trying to calm him down, and Ash realizes he’s shakin’ somethin’ awful. “it isn’t anything like that. God, don’t… don’t think that.”

Ash folds his arms tight around himself.

Stop shakin’, he thinks. Damn it, stop.

“Then what the fuck do you want?!”

“Alright kid. Just calm down, okay?”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, pig! Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on!”

“Okay. Okay Ash. I’m sorry. I should’ve just explained from the start. Please, just try to cool it a little. Nobody’s gonna hurt you here. You have my word on that.”

“Like hell…” Ash mutters.

He knows he’s makin’ a scene. He’s actin’ crazy. But the panic’s got his throat. He doesn’t like any of this. What good was a cop’s word anyway? Wasn’t worth nothin’, far as he knew.

“I promise you Ash. I’m not gonna let anyone touch you while you’re here. Okay?”

Ash looks away. He doesn’t believe that. Even if Jenkins wasn’t a bad guy, even if he meant what he said, wasn’t no way for him to keep a promise like that. Ash knew. Nobody’d ever kept him from gettin’ screwed before. Wasn’t nobody who could do it now.

There’s a knock on the door then, and it comes open, a uniformed officer coming in, holding a paper bag and a Styrofoam cup.

“Thanks Mike.” Jenkins says to him, taking the bag and cup and setting ‘em on the table. Ash eyes it. The bag’s bled through with grease, and the cup’s got water in it, it looks like. His stomach cramps up. Shit, he ain’t eaten nothin’ since that morning, and whatever’s in the bag smells good.

The uniformed cop splits, and Jenkins smiles at him, pushing the bag and cup closer.

“These are for you, kid.” 

Ash’s eyes flick up to the Captain, suspicion tightening his jaw.

“Come on Ash. There’s no strings attached. You just look like you could use somethin’ to eat and drink. So take it.”

Ash hesitates a moment longer.

Normally when someone offered somethin’, it was ‘cause they wanted somethin’ back, and he doesn’t think this is any exception. Whatever Jenkins wanted, Ash was gonna tell him to shove it. Probably. A shitty doughnut and cup of water wasn’t enough to get him to agree to nothin’. 

Still, he’s fuckin’ hungry, so he waits half a second more before grabbing the bag and shovin’ his hand inside.

Like he thought, it’s one of them powdered doughnut’s. Shit gets all over his hands, bringing it to his mouth and takin’ a big bite, powder smearin’ all over his lips and cheeks, but he’s so hungry, he doesn’t even care. He crams the whole thing down in three bites, before grabbing the cup of water and draining it without takin’ a breath.

When he looks back to Jenkins, the Captain’s lookin’ at him with that sorry look again, and Ash scowls. 

“So what the hell do ya want anyway? Either tell me, or call up Golzine already. I’m sick of waitin’.”

“Right. Okay. So look,” Jenkins slides the folder to the center of the table, twisting it around before opening it. “We’re looking for somebody. There’s somebody running around out there on the streets, abducting little boys and killing them. Some total lunatic. Particularly, he seems to be targeting little boys with blonde hair.”

Ash stiffens in his seat, his eyes scanning over the first page of the file. He reads it fast, his stomach churning as he does.

Six kids had turned up dead. Six that they’d found. All of them sexually violated, with evidence of torture inflicted before being violently slaughtered.

There was no description or idea of a suspect, other than it being an adult male, likely fairly large and powerful, given the brutality of the attacks. 

Ash thinks back to the John from a week before, the son of a bitch that’d almost killed him, and can feel the blood drain from his face. It couldn’t have been him, could it? Fuck… fuck… What if it was? And he’d let the fucker get away? He shoulda’ shot the bastard dead. He should’ve…

“Ash? Hey, hey Ash…”

He feels someone’s hands on him and he jerks violently back, a harsh gasp half chocked from his throat.

“D-don’t! Don’t fuckin’ touch me!”

Jenkins throws his hands up again, his own eyes startled.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… just… you were shaking and didn’t seem to hear when I called your name. I didn’t know if something was wrong or not.”

Ash’s own breaths are loud in his ears, his heart pounding as he stares back.

Shit… 

He needed to calm down. Damn it. Calm the fuck down.

“… Wh-what…” he swallows, his mouth dry and tongue slow. “what does the guy look like? Y-you ain’t got any descriptions?” 

Jenkins blinks, surprised.

“Well…” he reaches up, running his hand over the top of his bald head. “we’ve gotten a few, vague descriptions from some people claiming to have seen the guy. But nothin’ too reliable.”

“What do they say? I got a John the other night tried to fuckin’ kill me. Started spoutin’ all this nutty shit ‘bout me bein’ the devil and seducin’ him and shit. Fuckin’ psycho tried to choke me to death.”

Jenkins eyes are wide again, and he leans forward.

“What?! When did this happen?”

“‘Bout a week ago. I’d gone with the fucker a few times before and nothin’ happened. But this time he brought me to some crummy hotel room and next thing I know, he’s socked me one right in the face and then he’s on top of me, got his big, shitty hands round my throat and he’s tryin’ to really kill me. I got away and shot him in the fuckin’ knee. I shoulda’ killed his ass, but I didn’t. Fuck, what if… what if it was him and I let him get away? What if…”

Ash’s eyes burn with the thought, his throat too tight. Fuck, if it was him, then that meant he’d let him go back out there and he was probably killin’ some poor kid right now. Fuckin’ rapin’ and then killin’ some poor kid, and it’ll be his fault. His fuckin’ fault, ‘cause he didn’t kill the bastard when he had the chance. 

“Damn…” Jenkins mutters. His mouth twists into a disgusted frown, shaking his head. “That’s shitty kid. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t matter. You think it’s the same guy? If it is, and I let him get away…”

Jenkins shakes his head again.

“It doesn’t really sound like our guy’s MO. This guy we’re lookin’ for, he doesn’t usually kill his victims by chokin’ ‘em. He’s used all kinds of weapons, knives or some sort of blunt object usually. Really gruesome stuff.”

Ash don’t feel any better about it still. Why the hell were there so many sick bastards in the world? It didn’t make no sense. Damn it. God damn it.

“Ash, look, I know this is a lot to ask of you, and I know you don’t exactly trust the police. I know you’ve got good reasons for that. But we could really use your help on this case. We need to catch this son of a bitch before he kills again. We need to lure him out into the open somehow and get him.”

“You wanna use me as bait, you mean.” Ash answers back flatly.

Jenkins makes a face like he doesn’t like that, but it’s true and he knows it. Ash just stares back at him.

“… Yeah, I guess that’s what it is.” The Captain finally admits. “But it’s ‘cause we know you can take care of yourself Ash. You’re tough as nails. We need someone like you for this case.”

Ash doesn’t need to think about it. Not really. If he can help get rid of one of these fuckin’ pervs, he will. It’s the least he can do, anyway.

He leans back in his seat, keepin’ his arms wrapped around himself.

“Yeah, okay. But you gotta promise not to call Golzine. Don’t tell him I got picked up. Alright?”

Jenkins sags in relief, quickly nodding.

“Of course. We won’t put any of this on your record anyway. Not with you helpin’ us out.”

“And I gotta have a gun.” Ash presses. “I dumped mine before you hauled me in. I gotta get a new one.”

Jenkins hesitates on that, rubbin’ that bald head of his again, and Ash scowls. 

“I ain’t walkin’ in to this kinda’ situation without a way to defend myself, man. This fucker’s killin’ kids, and you want me to just let him grab me with no way to defend myself? Fuck that. You either let me have a gun, or I ain’t helpin’.”

“… Okay. Alright. You can have a gun. But you gotta give it back once it’s over. Alright?”

Ash huffs. He’s fuckin’ irritated. He’s already in the hole with the Fly, tellin’ him he’d pay him for the ammo in the next couple weeks. And tossin’ his gun was a loss of a couple hundred. It wasn’t like he’d been rakin’ it in before anyway, and now it was gonna be even less if he wasn’t really workin’. 

“You low on cash?” Jenkins asks suddenly.

Ash startles, looking up at him.

Shit, was it that obvious what he was thinkin’? 

“… My piece cost me damn near two hundred bucks. I had to save up for it for like three months man. I ain’t got no more cash.” 

He looks away.

It’s fuckin’ humiliating, havin’ to say that to a cop.

The room falls silent for what seems forever then. Ash looks away, glaring at the far wall.

“… Here kid.” Jenkins says finally.

Ash glances back up at him, and he sees the Captain holding out a wad of cash.

He stares at it. There’s a hundred wrapped round the outside, covering up the bills underneath, and Ash feels his stomach tighten with suspicion. His eyes flick back up to the Captain, trying to read his expression.

“… What’s that for?” He asks after a moment. He doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t trust anyone just tryin’ to give him cash.

“It’s for whatever you need it for kid. You don’t have to tell me what you buy with it. Just take it. As thanks for helping us out. Okay?”

Ash keeps lookin’ at Jenkins, tryin’ to figure out what his angle is. 

He could really use the cash. He needed to get another gun. He couldn’t be out there without one. But it was stupid to take money from anyone that wasn’t a business transaction. Jenkins said it was for agreein’ to help. But Ash couldn’t trust it. He knew he shouldn’t.

Still… fuck, it’d really help out right now. 

“… I’ll pay you back. I don’t want to owe you no favors.”

“It’s not a favor kid. You helping us out is already more than this is worth.”

“I’ll pay you back.” Ash says again. “Just say okay.”

Jenkins eyes him carefully, and Ash looks right back at him. 

“… Alright.” Jenkins sighs. “Alright, you’ll pay me back.”

Ash reaches out and grabs the cash.

It’s two hundred and thirteen dollars. More than enough to get another gun and pay Fly for the bullets too. 

“This everythin’ you had in your wallet?” Ash asks.

He tries to ignore the feeling of guilt in his stomach. He was just borrowing it. He’d get the money back to Jenkins.

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I’ve got plenty in the bank kid.”

Ash nods, keeping his eyes trained on the table. He pockets the money.

“… Thanks.” He mutters.

Jenkins tells him not to worry about it, and they get to talkin’ about the cops’ plan to catch this guy.

He lays out the area where they think the guy’s been operating, which doesn’t really help all that much, since it included essentially the whole of the Lower East Side, up through the East Village.

Still, it’s workable, and if there’s one thing Ash knows how to do, it’s lure someone in using what he’s got. 

Ash’ll know the fucker when he sees him. He just knows he will. And he’ll be ready.

He tells Captain Jenkins so, and counts himself lucky, when after an hour of briefing him, the cops let him go, no word to Dino about his being picked up.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So sorry for the delay with this chapter guys. Life's just been hectic lately. But I hope you enjoy, and if you have a chance, please leave a review!

Also, I had come art commissioned by the awesome rainphones! This is Ash from chapter 10, at New York Harbor, feeding the seagulls.

“Ash, my man, back already?”

“Heya’ Fly.” Ash shoves his hands inside his pockets, shuffling up the sidewalk to stand closer. He glances up at the man. “I got pinched by the pigs last night. Hadt’a toss my piece.”

“Sheeeet, my man. Tough break. And afta’ I sold you all that ammunition the other night.”

“Yeah.” Ash shrugs. “I need another gun. Same kind, if ya got it? I can pay you now.”

Ash show’s Fly the cash Captain Jenkins lent him so he knows he’s tellin’ the truth.

Fly whistles low.

“Sure my man. Sure. But where you get the cash? You was flat broke the other night, wasn’t you?”

Ash shrugs again. He doesn’t really wanna tell Fly about his deal with Jenkins. It’d just make him jumpy, knowin’ the cash came from a cop, even if Jenkins had told him he could spend it on whatever he wanted. 

“I just got it, but don’t worry about it. It’s not gonna come down on you or nothin’. You’ve got my word on that.”

“Okay. Cool, cool my man. I trust ya. So, you lookin’ for that .45 special again? Sure you don’t wanna upgrade my man? Crack shot like you, could do wonders with a semi-auto.”

Ash frowns.

“I ain’t that good a shot. And I told ya already, I don’t want no gun like that. A revolver’s all I need.”

“Alright my man. That’s cool. So, you wanna meet up at the usual spot? I can have your piece by this afternoon. Say about three o’clock?”

Ash tells him sure, and takes off after. He was gonna need to scope out the area where this child killer was operatin’ out of, get a feel for it. He’d know the fucker when he saw him, he was sure. He might find him that night. It might takes days, even weeks to find him. But he’d find him, and he didn’t give a fuck what Jenkins or the cops wanted then. He was gonna kill the bastard. He was gonna kill him fuckin’ dead.

//

Ash glances down the street as he shakes another cigarette loose from his pack. The cops were parked half a block away, thinkin’ they were all sly and shit. They’d been tailin’ him the past few nights, which Ash wasn’t surprised about or nothin’. Captain Jenkins had told him there’d be a unit following, in case he actually found the guy and somethin’ happened. That, and he had a fuckin’ wire on him so he could talk to the cops. Ash had agreed, ‘cause that was the deal for not tellin’ Dino he’d been picked up again, but he sure as shit didn’t like it. If Marvin came lookin’ for him and found him with a fuckin’ wire tapped to him, he was fuckin’ dead. It was makin’ him a hell of a lot more jumpy than lookin’ for this God damned perv was. But it wasn’t like he had a choice. Either way, once he did find the guy, he was gonna have to be quick about offin’ him, Ash knew.

So far, there hadn’t been no luck on that front though. It was a big area, so no surprise. Right now, he was workin’ the East Village, and he’d gotten plenty of looks from a bunch’a pervs, but none of ‘em seemed like the killing type. 

Ash shakes the shitty Bik in his hand, flickin’ the wheel half a dozen times before the damn thing finally catches, bringing to flame to the tip of the cigarette, shielding it from the wind with the back of his hand.

It was gettin’ colder now, August changed into September. Ash found himself feelin’ grateful to Suzy for givin’ him her kid’s jacket. He was gonna have to talk to her again soon, tell her thank you again, and check up to see if she’d gotten herself any protection. He worried about her and all the girls a lot.

Glancing again at the undercover cop car down the block, Ash inhales the smoke from his cigarette deep into his lungs, letting the smoke seep out through his nostrils, before turning away, wrapping an arm around himself and beginning in the opposite direction.

The weight of his new revolver at his back is reassuring.

Fly’d even given him a whole box of ammo, free of charge, tellin’ him it was on the house for bein’ such a loyal customer and all. Fly was a cool dude, Ash thinks. 

Right now though, he had to keep his mind on spottin’ this mother fucker. 

Jenkins had gone over the witness reports with him back at the station, though he’d warned Ash that they weren’t able to verify none of it. 

The guy was big though. They knew that from the power behind the blows which’d been responsible for killin’ his victims. At least six foot, maybe more like six foot two, six foot three. The eye witnesses had some contradictory descriptions, which was why the cops weren’t takin’ what they said too seriously, but they all described the guy as havin’ brown, shaggy hair. 

Ash figures that was enough to go on. That, and just relyin’ on his instincts. He was good at that stuff, usually. Knowin’ a guy’s intentions. When he had his guard up, anyhow. He tries not to think of what happened with that John the other night. Fuckin’ pathetic, that he’d let a piece of trash freak show like that get the jump on him.

He wanders around for a few hours, watching as the crowds start to thin out as it gets later. 

Ash guesses it must be somewhere close to 10:30, 11:00, when he plants himself down on a stoop outside a shuttered-up shop and waits.

He’s been movin’ around like this the past, few nights, sittin’ and waitin’ in different spots all around the village, makin’ himself look as small and vulnerable as possible. Makin’ himself look lost.

Eventually, he figures, whoever this guy is, he’ll come around, and see Ash, and think he’s the perfect victim.

A couple of hours pass, the area empty now ‘cept for him and the cops down the road, and Ash’s patience is starting to run thin. He’s thinkin’ of pickin’ up and tryin’ some other spot, when he spots a guy walkin’ along across the other side of the street. Big guy, wearin’ a knee length trench coat and blue jeans, head covered by a beanie. He’s got his hands jammed in his pockets, lookin’ shady as hell, and Ash feels so certain then that this is the guy. So certain it’s like his teeth hurt with it.

He sits up straighter where he’s slumped against the steps, staring at the man, willing the fucker to turn and look his way.

And suddenly the guy does, glancing absently across the road. He stops when his eyes land on Ash, and Ash falls back against the steps, wrapping his arms around himself, curlin’ into himself, makin’ himself small as possible. 

It works like a fuckin’ charm. The guy hesitates only a moment, glancing stupidly around himself, before takin’ off across the street. He thinks he’s bein’ clever, not makin’ a straight beat towards Ash, instead crossing over a few dozen yards away, meandering slowly in Ash’s direction, like he’s bein’ casual and uninterested. 

The speaker crackles in his ear, one of the undercover cop’s voice comin’ through, tinny and vacant.

“What’s up kid?” He asks.

“Fuckin’ nothin’ yet.” Ash hisses quietly, annoyed. “Lemme work, damn it. He catches me talkin’ to you, the whole things shot.”

“Yeah, but…” the cop starts to argue. Ash cuts him off.

“Listen, we ain’t gonna know if he’s our guy unless he tries to fuckin’ kill me. And we ain’t gonna find that out unless you let me work him. So shut the fuck up and let me do it. You can come to the fuckin’ rescue if he tries to get my ass. Now shut up. He’s comin’ up on me in a minute.”

The cop keep’s talkin’, mutterin’ some crap about kid’s and their foul mouths, but Ash ain’t got time for his clown ass. He’s gotta focus on what he’s doin’.

As the guy comes closer, Ash curls more into himself, actin’ like he doesn’t see the fucker, tryin’ to look miserable as he can.

It’s not that hard, since he really don’t feel too great anyway.

He feels it when the guy’s right on top of him, and right on que, he calls out.

“Hey there, little boy. Are you okay? What’s the matter?”

Ash can smell the fuckin’ perv on this asshole, he thinks, makin’ sure not to let his disgust show on his face, instead working his expression into a pitiful fear and confusion.

He lifts his face to the man, taking in his appearance quickly. He was only more certain now this was their guy. Ash watched for a moment as the man’s left hand twitched, seemingly of its own volition at his side. The weird, tweaked out shit you saw with freak shows like him sometimes. Their fucked up brains manifesting in weird, physical ticks. That, and it was his fuckin’ eyes. Beady, pointy eyes which nothin’ behind ‘em. Dead and black. Like all of ‘em. They all had those same eyes.

Lips trembling, Ash shakes his head, eyes wide and scared.

“I-I’m lost mister. I… I was with my mom and dad, b-but I lost ‘em. I ran off when I wasn’t supposed to a-and now I’m lost.”

The man smiles at him. Sick, ugly smile. He thought his expression would be taken by Ash as an attempt at comfort, but really it was full of barely suppressed anticipation and lust. Ash could feel his stomach twist in revulsion at the look, but forced his face to keep the same, scared impression.

“Aww, that’s too bad. Would you like me to help you find them?”

Ash let his own eyes get big and hopeful, viciously crushing down the knot of apprehension curling in his gut. He wasn’t stupid. This bastard was dangerous. Willingly going with him, even knowing what he was about, even armed with his revolver, was dangerous.

“W-would you help me, mister? Really?”

The man’s smile broadened, his teeth showing now, yellow and crooked, too much gum exposed as his thick lips peeled back over them. His eyes were blacker still.

“Absolutely.” He said, voice thick with false lightness. “Here, come on. I’ll go with you right now to look for them.”

He holds out his hand.

Ash glances at it. He had big hands to match his big, hulking frame, hair thick across their tops. His nails were brittle and yellow looking to match his teeth and chewed grossly down. The last thing Ash wanted to do was let this fucker touch him, but he had to make sure this was the guy before he could make a move. Even if his gut told him already.

Slowly he forces himself to reach back, letting his hand slip into the man’s proffered one. He has to fight down a surge of fear at the way the guy’s hand swallows his own, and more so when he feels the powerful grip clamp tight down, holding him firmly. 

“Great. Come on.” The man tugs him up off the steps he’d been sitting on. Ash’s stomach lurches. The fucker is strong. 

“We’re right behind you kid.” The cop’s voice crackles in his ear. Ash doesn’t react to it, letting the man pull him down the sidewalk. His heart rams uncomfortably in his chest, and he’s got to tell himself to calm the fuck down. He was the one foolin’ this asshole, not the other way around. He knew what he was getting in to.

“H-hey mister, my… my parents were back the other way, last time I saw ‘em.” He calls out after he’s let the guy drag him halfway down the block.

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that. I’ve just got to swing by my place for a minute to grab something, and then we’ll look for your mommy and daddy. Okay?”

Ash almost rolls his eyes at the obvious lie. These bastards were all the same. They all used the same, dirty, stupid tricks. You’d have to be an idiot to fall for ‘em. Either that, or really young and naïve. That bein’, of course, one of the reasons these sicko’s prayed on little kids. They made easy marks ‘cause, usually, they just didn’t know any better. Fuckin’ disgusting. 

Well, this bozo was about to find out the hard way he’d picked the wrong target this time.

“O-okay mister.” He agrees. 

He feels the man’s hand tighten around his own, his palm sweaty and calloused. He smiles, glancing down at Ash, his eyes thick with what he wants. 

“Good boy.” He says.

Ash almost kicks the fucker in the shins. But he can’t yet, he knows. He’s gotta wait to make his move. Gotta be sure.

When he is, he’ll get him. Get him good. Make sure the psycho fuck can’t never hurt another kid again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a huge thank you to all my readers and reviewers!

The guy’s “place” is a seedy ass motel room, which Ash ain’t surprised about at all.

His heart beats uncomfortably in his chest as the man drags him into the building, a familiar, suffocating pressure pressing down on him at the stench of the place, the air thick with smoke and humidity and almost oppressively hot. The dirty, yellow light fixtures barely illuminate anything as they pulse weakly along the filthy looking walls, the carpet running along the lobby and into the hallways black with dirt and who the fuck knows what else, the floorboards beneath creaking with their weight, the wood probably wrecked with rot. 

This was the kinda’ place where you could get murdered and wouldn’t nobody know about it ‘till days, maybe even weeks later. Not ‘till the stench of decomposing flesh bled through the door and out into the hallway.

Ash’s got no doubt that’s what this fucker’s thinkin’ right now. Thinkin’ he’s gonna murder Ash right here in his nasty, moldy fuckin’ motel room and leave him to rot. Only after he got through fuckin’ his corpse though. That was how these sick fuck’s worked.

Ash ain’t gonna let that happen though. 

“Come on, kid. Get a move on.” The man snaps, jerking him along more roughly than before. His nice guy façade was already startin’ to slip.

He’s nervous, Ash knows. Kinda’ nerves Ash recognized these assholes got before they were about to do somethin’ they knew was wrong. 

This was it then. This fuck was gonna try to kill him. The cop’s would hear, no doubt, and come chargin’ in. That was fine. It’d be over before they could make it past the door to this stinkin’ place. Ash had played off Fly’s compliment the other day about him bein’ a crack shot, but it was fuckin’ true. He was a good shooter, ‘spite never havin’ any lessons or nothin’. He had the kinda’ reflexes you couldn’t teach anyway. Reaction times you couldn’t learn. His vision at a distance was good too, even if lately, he’d begun to realize, he was developing farsightedness. Words on the page had started to blur and look smudged when he tried to read books, and he’d have to lean even closer to make anythin’ out. He hadn’t told Dino. He doesn’t know how Dino would react to somethin’ like that. To findin’ out his perfect toy was less than. 

“What is it you’re getting’, mister?” Ash asks. He shouldn’t antagonize the guy, probably. But fuck it. The asshole deserved it. He deserved a whole lot worse.

He looks up at the fucker’s face, sees his jaw tighten in annoyance. He keeps lookin’ around, tryin’ to make sure nobody was followin’ them. Nobody was watchin’. It was almost funny, ‘cause the fuckin’ idiot didn’t even realize there were two cops trailing behind less than a block back, and that the kid he was plannin’ on fuckin’ and killin’ had a wire taped to his chest.

It didn’t matter though.

Ash had to think.

He needed proof that this was the guy that’d been killin’ kids around here the last few months. Even if Ash’s gut told him it was, he knew that wasn’t good enough. He needed proof, otherwise he was gonna end up killin’ someone who didn’t deserve it, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t fuckin’ do that. 

Swear to God, even if he was the guy, Ash didn’t really wanna’ off him. But he had to. The way the system worked, there wasn’t no guarantees the guy’d actually be put away. That sure as hell wasn’t how it had worked out last time Ash had dealt with one of these pervs. Wasn’t how it had worked out at all…

Fuck…

Ash feels his mouth tighten, grim anger blooming in his chest.

He doesn’t wanna think about that shit now. 

Not right now. 

He ain’t got time now anyway, as the guy jerks to a stop, his hold on Ash’s hand tightening almost painfully now. Ash watches him fumble with the key to his room, muttering curses under his breath as it slips over the lock a couple times before he manages to slot it in.

Ash’s muscles tense up, instincts kicking in hard.

This was it, then. Soon as the fucker made a move at him, he was gonna blow his ass away. 

The guy finally gets the door open, and Ash thinks he ain’t gonna make the same mistake again of going first. It don’t matter anyhow, as the guy drags him in behind, not letting go of his hand as he turns and slams the door closed, locking it.

Right.

“Go sit on the bed kid. I’m gonna use the bathroom, and then we’ll head out and look for your mommy and daddy, alright?”

Like hell, Ash thinks. But he just lets his eyes get big and hopeful, nodding like the good little boy this dumb ass thinks he is. Another, slimy smile, and the guy waits to see if Ash does what he tells him. Ash does, and the guy smirks.

“Good boy.” He says again, before turning and heading into bathroom.

He’s gettin’ a weapon, Ash bets. One of them blunt objects he’d been caving kids skulls in with.

“Hey, hey kid, what’s going on?” The cop’s in his ear again. “We tailed you to some seedy ass motel. We’re just outside. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Ash keeps his voice low. “I’ll scream if I need you.”

He just wants the pigs to butt the hell out right now. He was gonna handle this. But if they kept talkin’ to him, expectin’ him to answer, they were gonna fuckin’ blow it.

Ash keeps his feet on the floor, his hand reaching back behind him, fingers curling over the handle of his .45.

It isn’t half a minute before the guy comes back out of the bathroom, and sure fuckin’ enough, he’s got a crowbar in his hands. He’s leerin’ at Ash now, all pretense gone. 

Ash blinks at him, still keepin’ up the innocent act.

“What’s that mister?” He asks, eyeing the crowbar all scared like.

The man’s grin widens, and he hefts the crowbar, whapping it against his open palm as he starts to step closer.

“Now listen here kid, you’re gonna do exactly what I tell ya. Don’t fucking make a sound, or you see this crowbar? I’m gonna crush your fucking skull in with it. You got that?”

Wasn’t no doubt now, Ash thinks. 

The cop’s voices are getting’ frantic in his ear. They’re hearing everything this bozo’s sayin’, and he ain’t got much time, then. Ain’t got time to screw around. His fingers tighten on his gun’s handle.

“Get your clothes off kid. Come on now. Pants and undies. Get ‘em off now.” 

Ash feels his eyes go flat, and he stands up off the bed.

The guy’s face twists, all angry and hateful. Gets all red with rage. It was always like this. Always the fuckin’ same with these pervs. You dared to go against what they told you to do, dared to be somethin’ other than what they told you to be, and it was like their whole fuckin’ world was implodin’ in on itself. Like they couldn’t wrap their pathetic brains around the fact that the universe didn’t revolve around them. That other people had a fuckin’ will of their own. 

“I SAID GET YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES OFF, NOW!” The man screams.

“Fuck you.” Ash tells him.

He needs the fucker to come at him. He needs him to. He comes at him and that’s it. Cop’s can’t call it nothin’ but self-defense then.

“What did you just say?” The man’s voice gets vicious.

“I said…” Ash smiles at him. “ _fuck… you_.”

The man’s face contorts all kinds of ways, a flash of emotions. Shock. Disbelief. Then the rage, and the blood lust.

He comes at Ash, fast, crowbar raised, ready to come down across his skull.

Ash’s fingers tighten hard over the handle of his pistol and he rips it from the waistband of his jeans, cocks the hammer back. The guys on him suddenly. Doesn’t know how he moved so damn fast when he’s that big. Too damn close to aim. He swings the crowbar down in a hard arc, and Ash ducks out of the way just in time, stumbling back.

Shit.

The guy whirls, his teeth bared in an insane snarl. His eyes are wide and mad in his head.

He sees the gun in Ash’s hand, and he growls, lunging forward, reaching.

Ash stumbles back again, trying to put more space between them. His back slams hard into the edge of something, sharp pain blooming suddenly. He feels the brush of the guy’s fingers, and then the hard, iron clamp of his fist tangling in his hair, jerking him forward.

Ash swallows down the cry which leaps up into his throat, for a moment, blind panic seizing hard in his chest.

Fuck…

“YOU LITTLE BASTARD! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

There’s fire across his scalp as the man jerks him roughly up off the floor, and Ash can’t help the pained cry which slips past his lips now, or the way his eyes screw shut, tears stinging at their backs.

_Calm the fuck down, Ash. Calm down_.

He forces his eyes open, coming face to face with the man, his face a monstrous mask, and he doesn’t think. He reaches up his left hand, clamping down as hard as he can on the man’s wrist, digging his nails into the flesh and tendons there.

The guy’s face twists in pain and surprise, his fingers spasming a moment, but he doesn’t fuckin’ let go the way Ash hoped he would.

No choice then. He was gonna die if he didn’t do it now.

This was gonna be ugly.

He lifts his right hand, holding tight to the revolver, hammer still cocked. He jams the barrel in the man’s face, and that’s all the warning the piece of shit gets. 

He pulls hard on the trigger, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away. The bang nearly deafens him, the wrench of the gun’s kick ratcheting painfully up his wrist, nearly breaking it, and then there’s the splatter of warm wetness all over his own face. It’s blood, he knows. Blood and bone and brains and who the fuck knows what else. The man’s grip in his hair goes slack, and then he’s falling, hitting the floor hard as he lands on his back, the breath knocking out of him.

A moment later, and there’s the sound of wood splintering and cracking as the room’s door is kicked in, loud shouts going up all around him.

Ash blinks his eyes open, the dirty ceiling swimming into view, seeming to spin above him, before his vision fills with the sight of one of the cops that’d been tailing him. He’s sayin’ somethin’ to Ash, but his voice is muffled like it’s under water, and Ash can’t make out nothin’. 

“Hey… hey… kid…” finally his words begin to come into focus. “kid… are you alright?!”

“… Yeah.” Ash hears himself say, and his own voice sounds funny to him. Same as the cop’s. Like he’s under water, muffled and weak. Firin’ the gun that close to his own ear hadn’t been the best idea, he guesses. Neither had been firing it one handed like that. Fuck, his wrist hurt. Was probably gonna have fucked up hearin’ for a few days, at least. He just hopes there wasn’t nothin’ broken.

“Here, let me help you. Are you hurt anywhere? Are you bleeding?” 

The cop puts his hands on him, and Ash feels a shot of panic lance through his chest.

He shoves the cop’s hands away, muttering that he can handle himself. Only when he sits up, the rooms spins, and he has to catch himself as he lists to the side, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Jesus, man… the fucker’s face is gone.” He hears someone say, sounding like they’re gonna be sick.

Ash doesn’t wanna look. 

He’s seen enough times what a bullet wound actually looks like, what it actually does to a person. From that close a range though… he doesn’t wanna look.

But he can’t not look, really, his eyes finally coming open and seeing the dead body of the guy who’d been tryin’ to kill him. 

The other cop’s right. His face just isn’t there anymore. Just a gapping, ragged, bloody hole where it used to be, a spreading pool of blood from beneath his head soaking into the room’s puke green carpet, gettin’ bigger by the second. Ash can see bits of bone and brain floatin’ in it, and the smell of copper is almost overpowering. Sickening. 

He turns away, bringing his forearm up against his nose and mouth.

He tells himself the sick fuck deserved it. He had to die. Logically, he knows that’s true. Still, he hates the sight of it. 

He’s killed again.

That made three. Three people he’s killed.

“Hey, Ash…” the first cop’s there again, kneeling down beside him. Ash glances up at him, and the cop’s got this sad look in his eye. “You did good son. We heard everything over the wire. You had to kill him.”

Ash looks away.

“… Yeah.” 

“My partner here’s gonna write up the report.” The cop nods over his shoulder at cop number two. “We’ve got a unit coming to collect evidence and clean up, and there’s an ambulance waiting outside. I want you to come with me to get checked out. Make sure everything’s alright.”

“I’m not hurt.” Ash tells him, still looking away. “He only ripped my hair a little.”

“Okay. But it’s just procedure. We’ve got to check you out to make sure you’re okay. So come on.”

The cop stands, holding out his hand. Ash is still holding on to his gun, and for a moment, he’s afraid the cop’s askin’ him for it. He won’t give it up. He’ll split before he lets the pigs have it. Not after he just spent all that cash on it. But then he looks at the cop’s face and sees he’s just offerin’ him a hand up.

Ash takes it reluctantly, feeling weightless as he’s hauled to his feet.

He figures it’s best not to say nothin’ about his gun if he isn’t asked, so he jams it back into the waistband of his pants, keeping his eyes turned from the mess of what had been that child murderer. 

“You feel okay?” The cop asks, and Ash nods.

“… He won’t kill no more kids.” He says. His voice sounds weak and wavering to his own ears.

“No,” the cop agrees. “No, he won’t.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with another chapter! I also wanted to share with you another commission done for me by the amazing rainphones! This is a piece she did for chapter 11, in the flashback between Ash and Griff at the bus stop, right before Griff has to leave to join the army. Griff is attempting to comfort Ash as he cries, fearful that he'll never see his big brother again.
> 
> Also, just a warning for this chapter guys. Mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts.

Suzy’s dead.

One of the girls tells him. Betty. When he went round, lookin’ for Suzy, wanting to thank her again for the jacket, and to urge her again to get herself a gun. Told him one of her John’s killed her. Fuckin’ stabbed her to death. A dozen times in the chest. Said the hotel manager found her a day after, called the cops. Betty was in a room down the hall when the commotion started, came out to see what was goin’ on. Said she wandered over to the door, lookin’ in past all the pigs crowdin’ the room, and saw Suzy’s body, laid out on her stomach, blood all over the fuckin’ place. Says she wishes she hadn’t let her curiosity get the best of her. Says she can’t get the image out of her head. Can’t stop imagining what it must have been like for Suzy, while it was happenin’.

Ash already knows what it was like. Knows what that feels like. That life and death struggle.

He feels sick.

He tells Betty thanks for letting him know. Tells her to get herself a gun. Tell the other girls to please do the same.

He leaves.

He can’t hook tonight now. Can’t do nothin’. 

He makes it a few blocks before he can’t stand it no more. Stumbles along the sidewalk, falling against the cool brick of a derelict storefront and starts to sob. Big, ugly sobs which he can’t stop. He hopes no one sees him. Doesn’t know why it matters. Just doesn’t want nobody to see this.

Oh God… Suzy.

She was his friend. 

He wonders what’s gonna happen to her kids.

Gonna end up in the system, no doubt. Probably get abused there, in the system. That’s what happened to kids. Molested or beaten or both. Probably end up hooked on some shit just to deal with the pain, and then they’d probably die from an overdose someday.

Ash squeezes his eyes shut, teeth grinding together as he tries uselessly to get his pathetic whimpering under control.

Suzy was his friend, and he didn’t even know her last name, he realizes. Didn’t probably know her real first name, even.

Why’d things have to be like this? Why’d everything have to be so fucking unfair? 

He should’ve… should’ve insisted harder she get a gun. Shoulda’ just… just given her his gun. Shown her how to use it. Damn it. Damn it. He was fuckin’ selfish. Didn’t wanna lose his own protection, and now… now she was fuckin’ dead, and it was his fault ‘cause he hadn’t done more. Hadn’t done the right thing and helped her out more.

God, he was a piece of shit. 

‘Stead of helpin’ Suzy, he was out fuckin’ around, helpin’ the pigs, who didn’t never do nothin’ for people like them. Who only ever made their lives harder than they already were. Takin’ money from ‘em and usin’ it to get himself another gun, when he shoulda’ takin’ that money and bought a gun for Suzy. Shoulda’ found her sooner and given it to her. 

Fuck…

“Hey, kid, you alright?”

Someone’s hand on his arm, and he freaks out. Tears away.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!” He screams.

The guy in front of him’s got a stunned look on his stupid face, eyes wide and mouth hangin’ open.

Ash’s got tears and snot all over his own face, he knows. He glares viciously back, teeth bared in a snarl.

“I’m…” the guy starts to say.

“FUCK OFF!”

And then’s he’s runnin’, shoving past the asshole and down the street. He doesn’t know where he’s goin’. Doesn’t care. Just knows he’s gotta get away from all this shit. Gotta get the fuck away from all of it.

//

The metal of the barrel is cool against his temple as he presses tight so that it bites into his skin. Presses and presses so that it hurts.

He imagines it. Imagines how fast it would be. Just bang, and suddenly it’s all over. Just like that. No more of this. No more fighting. No more struggling. No more thinkin’ about nothin’. No more lettin’ people down who deserved better.

No more pervs wanting to fuck him. No more hands feelin’ him up. No more Marvin. No more Dino.

… No more him.

Just… bang.

He wouldn’t even feel it. He’d be dead before his body hit the ground.

He tries to picture it. What it’d look like. His head snapping over from the force of the bullet explodin’ through his brain. Blood splattering all over the pavement. His body going limp as it died and crumpling into a pathetic heap.

Pathetic…

That’s him.

Fuckin’ pathetic nothing. Fuckin’ nobody. 

He feels the trigger digging into the skin of index finger. His hands are shakin’. He should just do it. Just fuckin’ pull the God damned trigger and stop all of it. 

For an instant, he thinks he’s going to. Right there. He’s going to. 

There’s a rush in his ears. Like wind whippin’ hard. His vision tunnels and he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“… Fucking die.” He whispers, his voice a ragged croak.

He feels the trigger depress. A little more and…

… Shit.

He doesn’t wanna die.

It’d be so much easier than this though.

It hurts so fuckin’ much. All of it. All the time. Hurts so much, it’s like he can’t breathe most of the time.

Doesn’t know why he even tries to hold on. He doesn’t know. What’d he have to live for anyway? 

Wasn’t nobody that would care if he died. Griff was dead probably. So he couldn’t care. His dad wouldn’t care. Didn’t even care where he was now. Could be dead, for all his dad knew. He didn’t care. 

… Papa Dino would only care that he’d lost his favorite toy. Wouldn’t care other than Ash dying before he said he could.

Fuck… he’s so lonely. All the time. It hurts, how alone he is. It hurts.

He wishes… oh, God… he wishes there was just one person… just one person who cared about him. Just a little even… 

One person who would be sad maybe if he died, at least…

Ash sags back against the concrete of the underpass he’d stumbled beneath, his legs folding under him, gun falling away from his temple.

He lists over onto his side, arms curling up over his head. 

He’s makin’ a weird sound. A keening noise like some sort of fucked up animal. He’s crying, he guesses. Again. He keeps crying all the time, and he wants to stop, but he can’t.

Doesn’t even have any right to feel so sorry for himself, he thinks. Not now. 

He’s a fuckin’ killer. What right did he have to want or ask for anythin’? He didn’t have no right. 

Nobody in their right mind would care about him no how. Nobody should. Anyone that did just ended up dead anyway. Like Suzy. And Griff. 

He thinks of Captain Jenkins, sitting down with him in his office after everything the other night, lookin’ him in the eyes and askin’ if he was alright. Askin’ like it really mattered to him. Ash remembers his hands fidgeting, like he wanted to reach out and take Ash’s own, but keepin’ himself from doin’ it ‘cause he knew it would just freak Ash out. Remembers how his face looked so sad, like he thought Ash was the most fucked up, broken kid in the world, and Ash thinks that’s probably true. He’s fucked up beyond repair. Fucked up beyond any kinda’ help. And he’d felt so angry, ‘cause what the fuck difference did it make, if Captain Jenkins felt sorry for him now? After everything was already fucked for him? Captain Jenkins couldn’t help. Even if he really cared, he didn’t care enough for Ash to be more to him than another of the poor, disenfranchised street punks runnin’ around this hell hole of a city. One of thousands which he couldn’t do nothin’ for. Like all the cops. The ones that weren’t takin’ money on the slide. The ones that weren’t assholes. All they could do was feel sorry. And Jenkins feelin’ sorry didn’t do nothin’ but remind Ash how stuck he really was. Fuckin’ trapped in this God damned life of his. 

He’d rather Jenkins not feel nothin’ at all, than give him his useless fuckin’ sympathy.

//

Ash doesn’t know when it was he fell asleep. Doesn’t know what time it is when he wakes up. Only his head fuckin’ feels like it’s splittin’ open and his stomach’s all cramped up and hurtin’ him bad.

He sits up too fast and the world spins upside down. He’s back down in the dirt, staring up at the moist concrete of the underpass above. His mouth feels dry as chalk, and he can’t remember the last time he ate anything. Fuck… it’s been a while, he guesses.

… He almost killed himself last night.

He realizes it without real shock. 

It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d thought about doing it. 

He’d thought about it a lot over the last, few years.

Last night was the closest he’d come to actually doing it though. He’d really thought…

He closes his eyes, lifting his hands up and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, teeth clenched.

If he killed himself now, then he wouldn’t be able to get Dino back for all the fuckin’ hell he put him through. The fuckin’ bastard would win. He’d win, and Ash would just be another, pathetic victim of his.

And… he didn’t wanna die. Not really. It’d be easier, he thinks. It’d be a relief. There wouldn’t be no more of this pain. No more feelin’ like this all the time. And he wasn’t afraid to die. It was gonna happen, he already knew. Sooner rather than later with him. You couldn’t keep this kinda life up for long. But he also knew what death was. How permanent it was. Once it was over, it was over, and there wasn’t no comin’ back from that. He wasn’t afraid, but he also didn’t have any desire to end up as worm food just yet. And he wasn’t gonna give up just ‘cause everyone around him tried to make him. That’d just be givin’ in and lettin’ ‘em have one, final say in what happened to him. 

Well, fuck that, he thinks. He wasn’t gonna let that happin’. Not if he could help it. Not before he got to get them back for all the God damned shit they did to him. 

He couldn’t die ‘till he got ‘em back.

That was somethin’ he’d thought a lot about too.

He didn’t know how he was gonna do it. 

Dino was powerful, and realistically, Ash knew he didn’t have no real chance against him. That any kinda’ chance as succeeding to break free and getting revenge was almost impossible. 

As he was now, Ash knew he couldn’t. He was just a kid. Just a fuckin’ street urchin. That’s what he was. Dino fuckin’ ran New York’s entire Italian mob, practically.

But… he had to try, at least. Had to at least try to break free, somehow. 

He knew he never could if Dino was alive. That he’d never totally be free. He’d have to kill Dino someday. That was the only way.

If he died tryin’, well… that was better than livin’ the rest of his life at Dino’s sex slave. Dyin’ would be better than that. It’d be okay then, if he did. He just wanted to try. Just wanted to be able to say he tried.

Someday.

He lays there in the dirt a while longer, tryin’ not to think about anything from the last week. Couldn’t afford to think about it, out here on the streets. That kinda’ stuff was what got you killed, eventually.

Finally he forces himself up to his feet, leaning against the wall a moment with his eyes closed, fightin’ off the wave of dizziness which threatens to put him back down. 

He doesn’t give himself long, makin’ sure he’s got his gun tucked into his waistband, before he takes off into the bleak cold of morning, arms tight around himself.

He guesses he should try to get somethin’ to eat. 

After that, he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know where he’s goin’ after that.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, once again, all my thanks for all your support and enthusiasm for this story. If you have a chance, please leave a review! They really help to motivate me!
> 
> Also, warnings for this chapter include mentions of rape/non-con.

It’s a few days later, Ash runs into Alex and his friends again by chance, hustlin’ it down East 42nd. 

Ash sees ‘em first, and thinks quick he’s got to get outta sight before they spot him.

He’s doin’ bad.

Last few nights, he’d tried hookin’, and everything had gone to shit.

He couldn’t stop thinkin’ about Suzy. About how he’d failed her. It was distracting him, and bein’ distracted while workin’ the streets wasn’t never a good thing. 

He’d paid the price for it. Fuckin’ bastard pig last night’d fuckin’ raped him. 

He’d told the fucker no when he said he wanted to fuck Ash up the ass. The bastard had said okay, but then he got crazy while Ash was suckin’ him off, and Ash hadn’t had no time to realize what was happenin’ before he had his big, meaty hands on him, shovin’ him down to the floor of his car. The mother fucker was too big. Too strong. Just like they always were. All of ‘em. Ash’d tried shovin’ him off. But he was too god damned small and weak and he couldn’t never… couldn’t never shove ‘em off. Couldn’t get to his gun neither, ‘cause it’d been trapped between his back and the floor.

Ash’d freaked the fuck out when he felt the guy tearing at his pants. Started kickin’ and screamin’ bloody murder. It didn’t matter. The son of a bitch’d just pinned him down using his own, big body, smothering Ash’s cries with his hand, ripping his pants the rest of the way off with his other. 

There wasn’t nothin’ for it then. Ash knew he couldn’t win. So he’d done the only thing he ever knew how when this happened. He laid still as he could and turned his face away, eyes burning even as he willed the tears back. He wouldn’t cry. Cryin’ only made ‘em rougher. Meaner. Got ‘em off all the more.

It’d been hard though, when he’d felt the fuck push into him, his inside cramping and twisting and everything hurt like burning fire. When the bastard started slammin’ into him hard and vicious, no control at all, and he could feel the skin tearin’ apart. Felt like his insides were tearin’ apart too.

Only good thing about it, Ash guesses, is the fuck didn’t last long like that. A few seconds, and he was spent.

Ash’d laid there, unmoving, for all the long minutes after that the pig had laid on top of him, breathing heavy, pressing his gross, sweaty face into the crook of Ash’s neck like they were lovers or some fucked up shit. 

Finally the bastard had pulled out, sitting up and letting Ash go.

Ash hadn’t wasted no time, scrambling back, reaching for his gun and slammin’ the butt of it hard as he could against the fuck’s temple. 

He could’ve shot the fucker and killed him, but he just wanted to get away. Get the fuck away. So he’d stumbled from the car, pants and underwear half fallin’ around his thighs, blood and cum and whatever the fuck else smeared all over their insides. Hadn’t even thought to pull his pants up, he’d wanted to get away so bad. Only realized he was stumblin’ down the street naked from the waist down when some people he’d moved past looked at him wide eyed and scared to death.

He’d passed out in an alleyway a buncha’ blocks down and wokin’ up hours later feelin’ sick as hell, insides all ripped up and achin’ like murder. 

Dino was gonna kill him when he saw how fucked up Ash’d let himself get out here the last, couple weeks. He was gonna kill him.

Didn’t have no money left neither. He was supposed to save some up for Dino’s take, but he’d gone ahead and spent what little he’d made the last few nights, buyin’ as much junk food as he could stomach and stuffin’ his face. Fuck it. He thinks he’s gonna die or somethin’ anyway. If he keeps gettin’ knocked around like this, he will. Or Dino’ll kill him. Whichever comes first.

He’d scrounged around in a dumpster out back a restaurant this morning and found a buncha’ day old beagles and some expired cream cheese, and he’d felt a little better after eatin’ some of that. But he knows he’s gonna have to get off the streets soon, or he’s gonna buy it.

The weather was gettin’ shitter too. Soon as October hit, it was gonna get deadly out here.

Ash thinks he’d let himself freeze to death rather than go back to Dino’s. But then, Dino wouldn’t never let that happen anyway. 

Marvin was gonna come lookin’ for him soon.

Ash starts to turn away, go back the way he came, but he isn’t fast enough.

He feels himself go stiff when he hears Alex call out to him.

“Ash! Hey, Ash!”

Fuck.

It wasn’t that Ash didn’t like Alex or nothin’. The older boy seemed pretty cool and all. So did his friends. It was just… 

He knows what he looks like. Knows he looks bad. He doesn’t want any of ‘em to see him like this…

… Doesn’t want ‘em to know.

“Ash, man!”

Ash sighs, his eyes rolling skyward, before he forces himself to turn back around.

Alex is runnin’ toward him, Kong and Bones on his heels.

Ash tries to brace himself.

“I thought that was you!” Alex huffs, that broad grin of his stretching up over his face. “Man, I was hopin’ to see you again. After you took off the other day so early, I thought…”

His voice dies in his throat, his eyes goin’ wider as he looks at Ash closely.

Ash hasn’t bothered lookin’ at himself in no mirrors lately. He doesn’t need to. He’s all banged up, and his skin and clothes are a filthy mess, from sleepin’ out on the streets the last few nights, and from not botherin’ to clean himself proper after what happened last night. Blood and cum dried on the inside of his thighs, seeping through the denim of his jeans to stain on the outside. He looks like a homeless kid. That’s exactly what he is.

“H-hey man, are you alright?” Alex finds his voice again.

“Yeah.” Ash lies. He looks up at the older boy, keepin’ his eyes trained on some point just past his face. “I’m fine. Sorry about takin’ off so early from your place. I had somewhere I needed to be.” Another lie. Well, fuck it. He couldn’t say the truth, which was he felt out of place and awkward with Alex and his friends. He didn’t belong. He left because bein’ around them just made him feel more alone. And it hurt. It hurt too much.

He didn’t wanna make Alex feel bad or nothin’ though, so he couldn’t say none of that. 

It wasn’t their fault.

He was just a freak. Just somethin’ wrong with him, was all.

Alex looks at him nervous, which wasn’t suprisin’. Everyone looked at him that way, once they got to know him a little. That was the thing about bein’ a freak like him. People started to notice, eventually. Bad vibes and all that. Messed up, broken kid was only likely to rub some of that same, rotten luck off on you too.

Bones and Kong are standin’ back a little, lookin’ unsure themselves.

Ash feels exposed, standin’ here in front of them, all fucked up and pathetic as he is. 

“Well, uh, hey man, we was just headin’ off to the arcade a couple blocks down. You wanna come?” Alex finally manages. 

Ash blinks.

Suddenly he feels uncertain. Alex was scared of him, he thinks. Maybe more scared of how he was. But he invited him to an arcade anyway. Ash hadn’t been expecting that. He doesn’t know what to think.

He almost says no right there. He thinks he should. He shouldn’t be hangin’ around no one. Not a bunch of other kids, especially. He was bad news. Bad news followed him. 

But he ain’t never been to no arcade before, and he really was interested in those video games and all. And Alex and his friends weren’t so bad to hang around. Also, they didn’t seem to mind so much bein’ around him, even if they were a little weirded out. 

… He wants to stop thinkin’ about everything these last, several days too…

“Okay.” Ash says before he can think any better of it.

“Really? I… I mean, cool! Alright!” Alex’s grin turn embarrassed, hand lifting to rub the back of his head.

Ash looks away.

He wasn’t no good at this. Wasn’t no good at knowin’ how to talk to people like all normal. He knew how to make a client comfortable. He didn’t know shit about talkin’ to kids his own age, or close.

“I don’t got no money though.” Ash tells Alex. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat. The one Suzy gave him. Fuck. His face burns a little. It must seem pathetic to them, the way Ash looks, all jacked up, and knowin’ now he ain’t got a single fuckin’ cent. “S-so I’ll just watch you guys play.”

“Oh, we got plenty ‘a change!” Bones, the little one, finally talks. “We got like, almost twenty bucks in quarters. We can spend hours playin’ if we wanted to and all.”

Ash doesn’t like that. 

He doesn’t like when somebody offers him somethin’ just outta the blue.

Usually it’s ‘cause they wanted somethin’. 

He don’t know Alex and his friends too good. He don’t know if they want somethin’ from him.

Shit…

He was doin’ it again.

He knows it ain’t normal, bein’ so suspicious the way he is of everyone. Alex and the others were just bein’ nice, and… and his damned, fucked up brain was tellin’ him all sorts of crap about how he couldn’t trust ‘em. How he shouldn’t, ‘cause they might… they might hurt him. But they were just kids. Just like he was. They weren’t like Dino and Marvin and Frog and all them bastards at Club Cod, and out here on the streets, lookin’ for an easy victim. 

They were just kids.

… Okay.” He agrees again, forcing the voice in the back of his head to shut up. “I’ll pay you guys back when I get some cash.”

“Oh, you don’t gotta…”

Ash shakes his head, cutting Alex off.

“I’ll pay you back.” He repeats, and he will. Somehow. He already owes Captain Jenkins two hundred bucks. It’s gonna take him a long time. And when Dino finds out he ain’t got nothin’ for him, then…

His hands curl tight, nails digging painfully into his palms. 

He can’t think about that now. Not right now.

“O-okay.” Alex stammers, confused and nervous again. “Well, uh… follow us then?”

Ash don’t say nothin’, only waits for the older boy to lead the way, and eventually Alex seems to get with it, turning and heading in the opposite direction.

Ash follows behind Kong and Bones.

He tries to ignore the tightness in his stomach. The way his vision seems to swim and double before coming back into focus. He hopes nobody gets weird in the arcade when they see him. Hopes they don’t do nothin’ like call the cops or whatever. He shoulda’… shoulda’ probably said no to Alex. 

Maybe there’s a bathroom in the place he can use, try to make himself look a little less fucked up.

//

Inside the arcade is _loud_.

There’s machines all over the place, bangin’ and boomin’ and makin’ all kinds ‘a ruckus, the volume on ‘em turned up way too high. Makin’ it all worse is all the kids runnin’ around, screamin’ and shoutin’ and pushing at each other. All the machine’s have got bright, colorful lights goin’ on and off, white flashes comin’ from the screens. 

Ash feels overwhelmed, his nerves hummin’, makin’ him jumpy, and suddenly he really wishes he hadn’t agreed to this shit. 

He’s never seen so many kids his age, ‘cept at Club Cod, and that… wasn’t like this.

Alex is sayin’ somethin’ to him. You had to yell in this fuckin’ place just to make yourself heard.

“Let’s check out Pack Man first!” He’s sayin’, pointing off in some direction. There’s a throng of bodies blocking the path to whatever machine he’s wanting to play, and Ash feels sick.

“I gotta take a piss.” He says. He can’t hear his own voice, crushed beneath the din of the room. 

“What?!” Alex shouts back, and Ash can feel his body winding tighter, his nerves fraying dangerously. 

“I GOTTA TAKE A PISS!” He shouts back, loud as he can.

“Oh, okay!” Alex nods. “It’s just off in that corner, over there! We’ll meet you at the machine!”

Ash don’t bother tryin’ to talk back. His throat feels raw and strained just from screamin’ so loud the once. He turns, startin’ for where Alex pointed.

There’s kids fuckin’ everywhere, younger and older than him. They’re actin’ wild, screamin’ and laughin’ and runnin’ in circles. Ain’t nobody around to watch ‘em. Ain’t nobody there to keep ‘em in line. 

It ain’t nothin’ like Club Cod. All the kids there were quiet as the fuckin’ grave. Made any noise there, act all crazy and stupid, you’d get beat near dead. All the kids Ash knew didn’t act nothin’ like this.

Ash feels lost. Feels the sick weight of his own strangeness. His own alienation. He ain’t like these kids. He don’t understand them. Don’t understand the lives they got. The way they see the world.

He don’t belong here.

A couple teenagers suddenly fall into his path, wrestlin’ and shovin’ at each other, giggling all stupid. They slam right into him and Ash feels his temper shoot up through him like a fuckin’ explosion. He shoves ‘em back off, snarling at ‘em to back the fuck off.

They stare back at him, dumb look on their dumb faces. They’re both bigger than he is, but he don’t care. 

“What the fuck, asshole!” One of ‘em shouts.

Ash don’t care. Don’t got time for this bullshit.

“You wanna get your ass kicked?!” The other boy sneers, and Ash is done.

“Get fucked bitch.” He tells ‘em, and he don’t give ‘em a chance to respond. Their dumb faces twist all up in rage, and Ash pulls his pistol from his waistband, lettin’ ‘em see it nice and clear. That cools ‘em out fast, their mad expressions droppin’ away, faces goin’ white with fear.

He pushes past ‘em, makin’ for the bathroom.

That was stupid, probably. He knows better then to pull his piece in a public spot like this. But his nerves are all shot to shit in here, and he’s gotta get a moment to himself or he’s gonna snap.

The bathroom’s empty, thank fuck.

It’s one of those that’s only got a single toilet, the door to the outside locking from within. Soon as he’s got it secured, Ash crosses over to the sink. He grips the porcelain in his hands, keepin’ his eyes from the mirror and drawing in deep, even breaths. 

He had to calm down.

He couldn’t hang here. He was just gonna have to go out there and tell Alex he didn’t wanna stay. If they wanted to go some place else with him, that was cool and all. But this place was fucked up for him.

He stands a few moments longer before turning on the water, cupping it into his hands and splahin’ it over his face. He does it a few times, and finally looks at himself in the mirror.

He looks about as shitty as he knew he would. His face is all bruised up. That fucker had grabbed hold of him hard while he’d raped him, his fingers digging nasty into Ash’s jaws and cheeks. 

He was… he was so sick of all this shit. So fuckin’ sick of it. 

If he thinks about it too hard, he can feel the bastards hands on him. Can feel his heavy, hot body layin’ on top of him, his dick pushin’ into him. There’s a knot in his chest, thinkin’ about it, squeezing too tight, his breath thin and stuck. His eyes burn. Oh God…

God, it’s… he can’t… he can’t think about this now. He’ll… he’ll drive himself crazy if he thinks about it.

He forces the thoughts away, trying to focus on somethin’ else. Maybe… maybe some place else Alex and the other two would like to go. 

He doesn’t know what they’d think was fun. 

The library was where he liked to go, but he… he don’t think they would like that much. Most kids thought library’s were boring, didn’t they?

He couldn’t think of nowhere else though. There wasn’t nowhere else he went for fun. 

His thoughts scatter when he suddenly becomes aware of the noise from outside going dead.

There’s still the sound of the arcade machines, but all the talk, all the shouting and chatter’s gone.

Ash feels his frame tighten, nerves on edge.

What the hell?

His rubs his face on his sleeves, half assed drying his skin, before turning from the sink and moving back toward the door.

He stands there a moment, pressin’ his ear up against it and listening.

Everyone’s stopped talkin’. What the hell was goin’ on?

Well, fuck, he couldn’t just hide in here the whole time, Ash thinks. Whatever was goin’ on, he’d just have to deal with it.

Unlocking the door, he pulls it open and steps back out into the main arcade.

Everyone’s still there, standin’ around. But they ain’t laughin’ and actin’ up no more. They’ve all got their eyes turned back toward where Alex and the others had said to meet up, by that Pack Man machine or whatever it was called. Ash can see ‘em from where he is, and he sees a bunch ‘a other kids too, standin’ around. 

Right off, Ash can see they’re aggressive, cuttin’ Alex and the other two off from movin’ past. They’re older than he is, Alex’s age or more, Ash thinks, and there’s eight of ‘em. One of ‘em’s right up in Alex’s face. Tall kid. Gotta be almost six foot tall, with spikey blonde hair. Ash don’t know him. He don’t know any of ‘em. But he can tell they ain’t no friends of Alex.

Ash could leave right now. He could slip out and ain’t nobody would even know. He didn’t wanna get into no shit. But…

Alex was a good guy. He’d been kind to Ash when he really didn’t have no reason to be. Invited him over to his place, let him play with his machine and eat his food. 

It wasn’t right, just to leave him to whatever the fuck was goin’ on. Ash couldn’t do that.

He sighs, shakin’ his head.

He don’t know how he always ends up in this kinda’ crap.

He moves, shovin’ past all the kids blockin’ his way, until he’s standing right behind the group boxin’ Alex and the others in.

Alex sees him, his eyes goin’ wide. His mouth falls open like he’s gonna say somethin’, but Ash don’t give him a chance.

“Hey!” He snaps at the tall kids back.

He whirls around, the rest of his group turning with him.

The fucker towers over Ash, his eyes searching empty space for a second before he thinks to look down. When he does, his eyes go all confused, like he can’t believe what he’s lookin’ at. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He sneers finally. 

The idiot’s got the stink of someone who’s used to bein’ in control and callin’ the shots. Someone taken with his own sense of power. Ash recognized it in him right away. It was the same, twisted look in all the fuckin’ pervs who got off rapin’ little kids who couldn’t defend themselves. 

His gut twists, and he shoves the sick unease down, folding his arms and glaring back.

“Stop fuckin’ with my friends.” He says instead of answerin’. He don’t owe this dipshit an answer. 

The tall kid’s eyebrows go up in surprise, for a moment, his face startled. Yeah, he ain’t used to bein’ talked back to. 

“Your friends?” He asks. “I ain’t never seen you around. Since when’s Alex and his crew hang out with faggot pretty boys like you, huh?”

He turns back to Alex, like he really wants an answer.

“You’re talkin’ to me, bitch.” Ash snaps, wanting the kids attention on him. If he could distract these fuckers long enough, maybe Alex and the others could make a break for it. 

A collective ohhing sound goes up all around them, and the tall kid looks back to him, his face twisting in anger now.

“The fuck you say to me?” He starts. He steps nearer, almost right up against Ash now. Ash don’t budge. He keeps to where he’s stood. He’s gotta crane his head back almost all the way just to look up into the kids face. But it don’t matter. Ash was used to way worse than whatever this dumbass was showin’. 

“I said, you’re talkin’ to me, _bitch_.”

“You fuckin’ little…!”

The tall kid grabs hold of him by the collar of his jacket, hauling him almost off his feet.

The sound of his gun’s hammer cocking stops him dead.

So’s the press of the barrel into his chest. 

“I told you…” Ash says, voice slow and calm. “Stop fuckin’ with my friends. Let ‘em go.”

“Mother fucker!” Someone shouts. One of the tall kid’s crew, Ash guesses.

The sound of guns drawing fills the room. Ash feels ‘em all on him.

He keeps his eyes on the tall kid. He smiles up at him.

“Think your boys can shoot me dead ‘for I put one in your heart?”

The tall kid don’t move, starin’ back at him. His face has gone pale. Scared. Ash keeps smilin’. 

“H-he’s bluffin’! He’s bluffin’ boss!” Someone cries. 

“No… he ain’t.” The tall kid answers back, voice thin. 

“It’s your call, big man.” Ash tells him after another minute. “Let my friends go, or you get a hole through your chest.”

“… Alright.” The kid answers after a long, tense moment. “Alright.”

Slowly, his hands uncurl from Ash’s collar, letting him go.

He lifts his hands up, takin’ a step back. Ash doesn’t move.

“Boss! Wha…?” 

“Forget it.” The tall kid snaps. 

The fears draining away, replaced by rage. All these fuckers were the same, Ash thinks. Oh, they got so fuckin’ mad when you took away their control. He’s starin’ at Ash now with wild, hate filled eyes. Ash stares back. He’s seen so much worse.

“I’m gonna remember you, you little faggot.” He tells him.

Ash shrugs.

“Go ahead. I don’t care.” 

That gets the fucker even more worked up, his face startin’ to go red. But Ash hasn’t moved an inch, his gun still trained on him. And that was another thing ‘bout these power freaks. They were also fuckin’ cowards.

“… Let’s go.” The tall kid tells his crew.

“But boss…”

“I SAID LET’S GO!” He screams, and then he’s blowin’ past Ash, the other kids with him starin’ all shocked, frozen a second before they move to follow. They all glance at Ash as they move past, stunned and confused. 

Ash looks back at ‘em, makin’ sure nobody tries nothin’ funny.

He waits ‘till they’re out of the arcade before lowering his gun, slippin’ back into his waistband. 

He turns back to Alex and the others. They’re starin’ at him slack jawed and eyes big as plates.

“… Woah.” Bones starts, like he can’t believe what he’s just seen.

Alex’s stunned expression cracks wide open then, his face splittin’ into a giant grin.

“I fuckin’ TOLD ya’ll! I fuckin’ _told_ you ‘bout this kid!” He whoops. “Haha! Holy fuckin’ shit man! Holy shit! I ain’t never seen nobody fuck with Arthur like that man! Ain’t never seen nobody make him back down like that! This kid! This fuckin’ kid!”

All three of ‘em gather around Ash suddenly, their voices all on top of each other, laughin’ and hollerin’ and tellin’ him how fuckin’ badass he is. How cool.

Ash don’t feel cool. He don’t feel badass. 

Nausea turns in his stomach, his chest tight. Everyone was too damn close. He just wanted to leave.

“I… I gotta get outta here.” He stammers, but he don’t think nobody hears him. “Hey, can we get outta here?”

Alex’s got his arm around his shoulders.

“Man, like, you gotta understand! Arthur’s the boss ‘a this whole area. He fuckin’ runs the streets, and you just made him your bitch in front of all these people! Man, he’s gonna be pissed! But God damn, that was the most hardcore shit I’ve ever seen! Everyone’s gonna know now! They’re gonna know who made him almost piss his pants! Fuck yeah!”

“Yeah man! He been tryin’ to force us to join his gang for months, makin’ all kinda’ threats. But everyone gonna’ hear ‘bout this! Ain’t no way they won’t!” Kong starts.

“They gonna hear who’s the real alpha now, man! They gonna’ know!” Bones joins in.

“You fucked his shit up good Ash! Now everyone’s gonna know he ain’t all that!” Alex again.

Ash shakes his head. 

The tight feelin’ in his chest is gettin’ worse. His head spinnin’.

“I don’t care ‘bout none ‘a all that. I gotta get outta here. I wanted to ask you guys if we could split and go someplace else.”

“Whatever you want, man! We’ll do whatever you want!” Alex finally hears him, grin big as ever.

Ash don’t understand what the big deal is. Don’t understand why they’re actin’ like they are. He shakes his head again.

“Just wanna go.” He repeats. 

He don’t know what the big deal ‘bout any of it was.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, all my thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed! I hope you guys continue to enjoy and as always, please leave a review!

“Hey, you wanna get some dogs before we go in man?”

Ash stops, turning to look back at Alex.

“Huh?” 

Alex grins at him, nodding his head aside. Ash follows the direction, and sees he’s nodding towards the hotdog stand right outside the library. That things been there since as far back as Ash has been comin’, but he ain’t never got no food from it. 

“… If you want.” Ash shrugs. “But you can’t bring none of that into the library. They don’t allow it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll eat fast.” Alex assures him.

Ash watches as the three other boys dash up to the food stand, before turning and heading towards the steps leading up to the library’s entrance. He flops down on ‘em and waits. His stomach hurts with hunger, and he don’t really wanna remind himself of it by watching other people eat. He ain’t got no money to buy nothin’ with. 

Instead he focuses on the people goin’ up and down the stairs. Most of ‘em are carryin’ books, either checking out or returning, and Ash thinks about how he wishes he could get a library card so he could take books out too. 

… Maybe he could give a fake name or somethin’. Set up a membership under a pseudonym or whatever.

Dino would be mad as hell if he found out, probably. Ash don’t know what he’d do if he did. Maybe it wasn’t worth the risk. 

A few minutes pass, and he glances back to Alex and the others. They’re still at the stand, givin’ the guy workin’ it their orders he guesses.

He’s still surprised they’d agreed to come here with him. 

He’d almost felt afraid to suggest it, imagining them bustin’ out laughin’ and shit about how lame it was to wanna hang out in a library. 

But Alex and the others had just said “cool”, and Kong’d said he’d never been to no library before. Kong and Bones couldn’t read, they said. Ash’d told them he could teach ‘em, if they wanted. It was a shitty thing, not to be able to read. Ash don’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t read. That’d be awful.

Kong and Bones had seemed less sure about that, but Ash’d told ‘em he’d like to teach ‘em, ‘cause it would make their lives a lot easier if they could read and all, and they’d said okay.

Ash’s eye catches sight of the dark stains bleedin’ through his jeans, inside ‘a the thigh, and he frowns. 

He hopes they don’t throw him out for lookin’ all messed up like he does. He was gonna need some new clothes again. Blood didn’t wash out, so even if he got these in at a drycleaner's, they were wrecked. But to get new clothes, he was gonna have to score some cash, and that meant more hookin’ later tonight. 

The thought of it’s got Ash feelin’ sick to the stomach, and he swallows it back, tryin’ to push it from his head.

There wasn’t no choice anyway. He had to make enough money to pay Captain Jenkins back as soon as he could too, so there wasn’t no choice.

“Hey man!” 

Ash startles, lookin’ up and seein’ Alex standin’ over him, Kong and Bones a step below. Alex’s holdin’ a hotdog and a soda in his hands. Holdin’ them out to him.

“These are for you!”

Ash blinks.

For a second, he doesn’t get what the older boy is sayin’. 

“What?”

“We got these for you Ash! Here!”

Ash’s eyes move down to the food in Alex’s hands, and he feels his stomach tighten and growl as the smell of the hotdog wafts over. His mouth fills with saliva, and he swallows it down, trying to ignore it. 

“… I don’t got no money.” He reminds Alex.

“I know. It’s on us. Hey, if it bothers you, just think of it as payin’ you back for helpin’ us out with Arthur and his goons back at the arcade. Okay? We’re payin’ you back.”

“… I…”

And Ash’s voice dies in his throat.

He don’t know what to say.

He’s hungry. He’s really fuckin’ hungry, actually. And Alex was sayin’ he could have the food as payment for helpin’ ‘em out with that dumb beanstalk at the arcade. Ash didn’t do it for no favors, but… 

He didn’t know when he’d get a chance to eat again. And it was always dumb to pass up on food. 

“… If you’re sure?” He asks, and Alex just nods.

“Totally man. Don’t worry about it. Here.” He holds the food and drink closer, and Ash figures he’s got nothin’ to lose. If Alex changes his mind about payin’ him back later, he just will. It couldn’t be that much money. 

“… Okay. Th-thanks.” He stumbles, taking the food. “Where’s yours though?” 

“We ate already.” Bones answers. “We eat fast, ya know?”

“I’m the fastest though.” Kong grins, lookin’ all proud.

Ash looks up at him and smirks.

“That don’t surprise me.” He almost laughs, and Kong’s grin gets wider, his big, white teeth standin’ out stark against his dark skin. 

The three of ‘em settle down onto the steps on either side of Ash, still slurpin’ their own drinks.

This is… fuckin’ weird, Ash thinks as he starts to eat. 

He ain’t never come here with no one before. Never hung out with no one. Especially no kids close to his own age. 

It was… kinda’ cool though. Ash feels kinda’ alright about it.

He liked hangin’ out with Alex and his crew, he guesses. 

“So, you like to read, huh?” Alex asks after a minute.

Ash’s face gets warm, that same, uncomfortable doubt creepin’ in on him. 

“… Yeah.” He answers, voice soft. “I mean, sometimes…”

“That’s cool.” Alex goes on. “I can read a little, but not too good. You’re smart, huh?”

Ash stares down at his hotdog, only about a quarter eaten. The thing is smeared in ketchup and relish and mustard, and he can hear Papa’s voice in his head, tellin’ him he isn’t allowed. He isn’t allowed to eat nothin’ like this. 

“ _You’ll get fat, you stupid little ape_.” Papa says. “ _And then what good will you be to me_?”

Ash’s stomach churns, and he feels suddenly sick. 

He’d be dead, if he wasn’t no good to Papa no more. Papa would kill him, or he’d go and find Dad and kill him. Or both. Or…

“Hey, Ash?”

Ash shakes his head, tearing his eyes from the hotdog and lookin’ up at Alex.

“Huh?”

“I said you’re smart, huh? You seem like your really smart or somethin’.”

Ash stares at him a moment, not really knowin’ how to answer.

He was smart, yeah. It didn’t do nothin’ but make him miserable though. Just like his face. Papa liked to show him off. Like a trophy. 

“… I guess.” He says after a few seconds. 

“Like, how smart is you?” Kong asks from the other side. “Alex thinks you some kinda’ geenus’ or somethin’.”

“I didn’t say that man!” Alex snaps, sounding embarrassed. “I just said he’s like real smart. Or he seems like he is, anyway. I mean, when you was talkin’ all that computer stuff to me back at my place… I didn’t understand none of it. I only ever seen, like, computer nerds talk about that stuff, or like, people that been to college.”

Ash shrugs. He doesn’t wanna talk about this. He hates talkin’ about stuff like this.

“I scored pretty high on a couple IQ tests or whatever. But I don’t know what that even means.”

“Really?!” Alex only seems more interested, and Ash wishes he hadn’t mentioned it now. “How high’d you score?”

Ash shrugs again.

“Like 180 or somethin’. I dunno. It don’t matter.”

“Is 180 high or somethin’?” Kong asks.

Ash shrugs again. He wishes they would just drop it.

“What’s, like, a normal person score?” Alex again.

Ash wraps the rest of his hotdog up. He can’t eat no more.

“Like, 90 to 100 or somethin’ around there. I guess anythin’ above 120’s considered “exceptional”, whatever the fuck that means.”

Alex’s eyes go all big, and Ash looks away.

“And you got _180_? Daaaaamn.”

“It ain’t a big deal.” Ash almost snaps. “It depends on whatever tests you take anyway. They’re all different.”

“But, like, are you real good at math and shit?” Bones jumps in again. “I’m so fuckin’ bad at shit like that.”

“Yeah man, this little bastard can’t even count up to a hundred without havin’ to stop and think about it.” Alex laughs. “Not that I’m much better.”

Ash shoves himself to his feet, his heart hammerin’ against his ribs. He doesn’t wanna talk about this. He doesn’t wanna think about it. 

The voices around him cut off almost abruptly, a confused tension filling the air.

“… Let’s go in.” Ash says after a moment, and he can’t keep the annoyed edge outta his voice. He doesn’t even really try. 

“O-oh, alright.” Alex starts. He sounds uncertain. Almost scared again. “Aren’t you gonna finish your food though…?”

Ash grits his teeth, giving a hard shake of his head.

“I ain’t that hungry.” He lies. “You want the rest?”

Alex blinks up at him, before pushing himself to his own feet. Kong and Bones follow.

“I’m alright.” Alex says. 

“What about you two?” Ash asks the others. They tell him no too, so he tosses what’s left of the hotdog onto the sidewalk. He leaves the paper soda cup sitting on the steps, and without sayin’ nothin’ else, he turns, making his way up to the entrance of the library.

There’s a few seconds hesitation, before he hears Alex and the others following behind.

//

They spend a couple hours at the library. Ash knows it ain’t really what the other’s wanna be doin’, but they don’t seem to mind it too much, and Ash feels grateful to ‘em for comin’ here at all.

He shows ‘em around. Shows ‘em the computers and stuff, a little how to use ‘em and all. They don’t really know nothin’ ‘bout how they work. Don’t know the difference between hardware and software or nothin’, or what programs are, but that’s okay. He shows ‘em what he can, and then he shows ‘em the children’s section and tells ‘em to choose some book from there with words in ‘em so he can show ‘em a little bit about how to read.

They spend the rest of the time doin’ that. Alex can read alright. He does fine with the kid’s books. Kong and Bones don’t really have no ability, so Ash just spends a while teachin’ ‘em about phonics and helpin’ ‘em to sound words out, recognizing the relationship between how the word sounds and their letters. Anything more complex than that wouldn’t do ‘em no good right now. But if they keep at it, he thinks he can eventually get ‘em to a pretty decent reading level.

They split after that, and Ash tells ‘em about the junk yard he likes to rummage around in. He feels unsure how they’ll react to that, but they hadn’t laughed at him ‘bout the library, so he figures it’s worth a chance.

They say they think that sounds cool, and so they go there and hang around for a while some more.

Ash looks around a little for some more parts, but it’s hard to really focus on any of that when there’s other people around, and so he mostly just ends up chucking rocks with ‘em, seein’ who can break the most car windows.

Ash has good aim, and hits most of the windows, but Kong’s strong as hell, and even though he misses some, every time he hits, the glass breaks into pieces. So he wins easy.

It’s weird. Ash can’t remember ever havin’ just hung out with other kids like this. He likes it, kinda’. He wonders if maybe it’ll become sort of a regular thing, when he’s on the outside anyway. Havin’ a group of kids to hang with. Even… even back in Cape Cod, he’d never really had no friends that he played with or nothin’. He stayed with Griff all the time, and after Griff left…

But he don’t like to think too much about that, so he don’t.

Alex tells ‘em they ought to be gettin’ back to their places after. He tells Ash he can come and stay with him, if he wants. Ash thinks he’d like to. That he’d really like to. A safe, warm place to stay wasn’t easy to come by. And he didn’t have no cash. No way to rent a room. And all the shelters were probably booked up by now. 

But Ash needed to make some cash and quick, and so he tells Alex he’s got to work, but maybe tomorrow night he could take him up on his offer, if he was still willin’. Alex tells him sure thing, and asks if he remembers the address. Ash does.

They head back into the city then, and they all say bye and shit, and then Ash is alone again, the sun just startin’ to go down.

He hops the subway back to Manhattan and walks the short ways down to the Deuce. 

He was gonna have to work non-stop for a couple weeks to make enough to pay Captain Jenkins back. He don’t really wanna think about it too much, so he doesn’t, wrappin’ his arms around himself to protect from the already droppin’ temperature. 

Back to work, that was all.

Wasn’t nothin’ he wasn’t used to anyway.

//

It’s half past midnight, and Ash has made about thirty bucks and some change, when the last thing he wants to see comes pullin’ round the corner and straight down the block towards him.

Ash’s heart kicks painful and fast as he recognizes Marvin’s car, and he stands frozen, unable to do nothin’ but watch as it draws closer.

He latches on for a brief, few seconds that maybe it’s just a coincidence. Some guy drivin’ the same make and model. But then the car pulls up right onto the curb, and the window rolls down, and Marvin’s fat, mean face is starin’ back at him, his lips pulled up into a vicious smirk. He’s got his sunglasses on still, even though it’s night, and Ash hates him. He hates him so fuckin’ much. Only that hate is crushed underneath his sudden, dizzying terror, his mouth dry as chalk dust.

“Jesus, look at you.” Marvin drawls. He reaches up a pudgy hand, pulling his glasses down, his eyes roving up and down Ash’s form. “The fuck happened? You get beat up or some shit?”

Ash doesn’t answer. He can’t. His voice is trapped inside his throat, his teeth clenched hard and eyes wide. 

For a wild, insane moment, he thinks about tryin’ to run away. But if he did that, he’d just make it worse for himself. He knows. He’d just make it worse.

He keeps glued to the spot. His hands are startin’ to shake, and he balls ‘em into fists inside his pockets.

Why? Why the hell did Marvin have to show now? Why, when he was just startin’ to get somethin’ rollin’ here? What the hell did he want?

He doesn’t wanna go back to Dino’s now. Not now. Oh God…

The smirk falls from Marvin’s face, as he pushes the glasses back up.

“Get in.” He tells Ash.

Ash knows better than to argue, so he doesn’t.

Silently he begs his hands to stop shakin’ as he steps off the curb, reaching for the handle of the passenger door. His eyes burn, but he ain’t gonna fuckin’ cry. He ain’t gonna give this fucker the satisfaction.

At least it’s warm in the car, he thinks miserably once he’s inside. Big fuckin’ deal. It was warm at Dino’s mansion too, but Ash’d rather sleep in a sewer than have to go back there.

“Fuck, you stink.” Marvin says. He sounds disgusted. Like Ash is the fucked up one. “Least it was easy to find you this time. Once a whore, always a whore, huh Ash?”

He laughs, and Ash looks away, keepin’ his eyes fixed on his cut up, bruised hands, held tight together in his lap. 

“What, you lose your voice or somethin’? You ain’t sayin’ nothin’.”

Ash swallows hard past the tightness in his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to talk. He thinks if he does, he’ll say somethin’ stupid, or else he’ll start cryin’ like a little bitch, and he don’t wanna give Marvin the satisfaction.

“Hey, you answer when I’m talkin’ to you, you little faggot!” Marvin reaches out, cuffin’ him hard against the ear.

Ash goes stiff as a board, a sharp gasp pushin’ past his teeth despite him tryin’ to swallow it down.

“I’m sorry!” He chokes. His voice comes out like a squeak, and Marvin laughs again.

He’s always laughin’ at Ash.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you are. Well, let’s get to goin’ then, unless you got some special reason to stay?”

Ash keeps his eyes on his lap, and he shakes his head weakly.

“No.”

He can feel Marvin grinnin’ at him.

“Didn’t think so. Say, how much cock you sucked tonight? Wait, lemme take a guess. From the look’s ‘a ya, I’d say you musta’ sucked off at least three or four guys. Am I right?”

Ash blinks, his fingers numb with anxiety.

He doesn’t know if Marvin’s bein’ serious or not. He doesn’t know what he should answer.

He’d givin’ a couple blowies and then a couple hand jobs. He don’t know if he’s supposed to actually tell Marvin that. He don’t want to.

Mavin laughs again.

“Trade secret, huh? Don’t wanna share, I get it. Well, don’t worry, you nasty fuckin’ slut, ‘cause you ain’t through givin’ head tonight. Not by a long shot. You wanna take a guess where we’re goin’?”

It takes longer than it should for Marvin’s words to register in Ash’s brain, and finally he looks up from his hands, glancing over at him, his fear threatening to turn to full blown panic as he realizes. He can feel his eyes, wide as saucers, staring up at Marvin, and Marvin’s big, stupid face leering back.

No, Ash thinks. No, not… not that. Oh God, please no…

“Yeah, you know.” Marvin says.

“No.” Ash breathes, his voice trembling. “Please, no…”

“Now don’t be like that Ash. Frog ain’t had his turn in a while, and you know if you wanna keep Papa happy, you gotta keep makin’ him that green. So it’s time for you to make another movie. That’s all. You know how well your tapes sell. ‘Sides, you been out here runnin’ around long enough. The money you bring Papa’s fuckin’ pitiful. But your tapes make enough that you’re almost worth all the fuckin’ shit you put us through.”

No, no, no… 

Ash can hear his own breathin’ in his ears, loud and uneven, and he’s startin’ to panic. His visions goin’ all funny round the edges, and he’s freakin’ out because he can’t… he can’t do this again. Not again. Oh Jesus Christ… oh God, he can’t…

Marvin’s hand is between his legs, cuppin’ his crotch, rubbin’ him through his jeans, and Ash blinks, his body refusing to move suddenly. 

“Calm the hell down. It ain’t like you’ve never done this before. You know how it works. So keep your shit together, and it’ll go nice and smooth. You make trouble, and you know what happens then. You ain’t got a choice Ash. Fuckin’ remember that.”

Ash knows better than to argue. He knows he shouldn’t. He knows he’ll just make it worse for himself and the others if he does, but he can feel the panic startin’ to choke him, and he can’t stop the words from comin’ outta his mouth.

“Please, _please_ Marvin, I don’t w-wanna do this. _Please_ don’t make me!”

It’s pathetic. He knows it is, somewhere in the back of his mind. He knows he’s a pathetic, weak nothing. But he can’t help it. He can’t help it.

“You ask me one more time to get you outta this, and I’m gonna fuck you up right now, you piece of shit!” Marvin’s voice cracks and booms, and Ash shrinks back against the door, terrified.

Marvin got violent. He got really violent, sometimes.

And Ash knows better than to beg.

Fast as it comes, Marvin’s rage disappears, and he grins at Ash again, still stroking at his crotch. 

“Good boy. Now stay nice and quiet. We’re headin’ over to Frog’s. You gonna take a shower and get your ass cleaned up once we’re there. I don’t wanna hear another fuckin’ word outta that pie hole ‘a yours. Got it?”

And Ash nods, turning his face away. He presses it against the cold glass of the window, and closes his eyes, willing the tears away.

He doesn’t say nothin’ else.

Would only make it worse for all of them, if he did.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone for all of your support! 
> 
> Please heed the tags for this chapter everybody!

Marvin makes him take a shower when they get to Frog’s. He watches like he always does, and Ash tries not to think about nothin’. Tries not to think ‘bout what’s gonna happen. He’ll drive himself crazy, he knows, if he does.

He hadn’t said nothin’ else on the way here, ‘cause it woulda’ just gotten him hurt. Woulda’ gotten whoever else they dragged here hurt. 

Ash tries not to think ‘bout that neither. Tries not to think ‘bout who else they brought here.

Marvin takes his clothes and gun, and Ash don’t see what he does with ‘em. He takes the jacket Suzy gave him. 

And then he’s haulin’ him out to where Frog’s got the room set up. 

First thing Ash sees are all the lights. Frog likes to think he’s got a real professional setup goin’, with expensive lighting and cameras. Like they’re shootin’ some kinda’ Hollywood production. But all’s it is, is kiddie porn. 

There’s the big bed in the middle of the room, but not much else, no windows, no furniture ‘cept a big armchair pushed into the corner where Ash knows Frog like to sit and “direct” when he ain’t in the shot himself.

Ryan’s there, sittin’ on the bed already. He’s naked, just like Ash, and Ash feels bile churn in his stomach.

Ryan’s one of the kids from Club Cod. He’s about a year younger than Ash, his blonde hair darker and more sandy, his eyes brown. He’s been at the club a couple years. One of the kids Ash had done what he could to help survive and who’d actually managed to do so. Lookin’ at him, sittin’ there on the bed, thin and gaunt and eyes wide with fear, Ash wonders if maybe he was doin’ a bad thing, tellin’ the others how to keep alive, when it might be better for all of ‘em to just be dead. 

‘Least then they wouldn’t have to do shit like this.

There’s another kid there that Ash don’t recognize, standin’ off in the corner, near the armchair. Older. Probably 15 or 16, to look at him. He’s dressed, standin’ with his arms crossed over his chest and his face down. 

Sittin’ in the chair is Frog.

The fat fuck’s face lights up when he spots Ash, pushin’ himself to his feet and stridin’ over.

“Found the bastard, huh?” Frog asks Marvin. 

“Wasn’t hard.” Marvin tells him. “Little slut was out hookin’.”

Frog’s thick lips twist up in a smirk, and his eyes shift, glassy and dead as they look Ash over.

Ash does his best not to fidget. He wants to cover himself up, but he knows that’ll just make Frog mad, so he struggles to keep his arms down at his sides, his eyes fixed on a spot along the wall opposite. 

Frog’s place is dingy and gross as ever. Ain’t no lights ‘cept the ones for filmin’, so the room’s got a hazy, dark quality that makes it hard to see. The floorboards are all cracked with rotting wood, the walls bare. There’s big cracks runnin’ up their sides and into the ceilin’, big water stains bleedin’ through from whatever’s up above. There’s a radiator, rattlin’ along a parallel wall, clunkin’ and chokin’ as it struggles to keep the space warm. It’s almost comical, how much it’s like a room outta some cheap horror flick. ‘Cept Ash don’t find none of it funny.

His gut clenches, bare toes curlin’ against the rough wood of the floor. 

He remembers one time he’d pissed himself, early on when they’d first brought him to do this. Standin’ here naked, same as he was now, waitin’ for whatever it was they were gonna do to him. He’d pissed, the wet warmth of it runnin’ all down the inside of his legs, poolin’ on the floor, and Frog had laughed and laughed. And then, Ash remembers, he’d started cryin’, and Frog had beat him black and blue for it, and then raped him, tearin’ him up until blood and piss mixed all together inside his thighs and down the backs of his legs. He remembers the other kids sittin’ there on that same bed, kids who back then had been at the club a lot longer than him, watchin’ him get the shit beat outta him, and then raped. Ash remembers their eyes had been dead. Unfeeling. Unseeing. Most of ‘em hadn’t lived much longer after that.

“You make him take a shower?” Frog asks Marvin. “Why’s he look so filthy?”

“Yeah, he cleaned up. Those are bruises or some shit. I don’t know what the fuck happened to him. Think he got roughed up out there on the street.”

Frog steps closer, and Ash can’t help flinching back as he reaches out, grasping hold of him by the chin and jerking his face up.

“You look like shit.” He sneers. Ash blinks, but don’t say nothin’. 

Frog turns his face left and right, his fingers gripping too hard, before finally he shoves Ash’s face away. He nods towards the bed.

“Get on. We’re already runnin’ behind schedule.”

Ash doesn’t argue, stumbling when Marvin shoves him from behind. He glances at Ryan, Ryan lookin’ back at him with those wide, scared eyes of his, like he’s lookin’ at Ash for some kinda’ reassurance. Some kinda’ help.

Ash looks away, shame and guilt closin’ his throat up. There wasn’t nothin’ he could do. 

“Get on the bed Ash!” Frog snaps, and Ash scrambles up, his heart thuddin’ painful in his chest.

There’s a pair of handcuffs hangin’ loose from the bedframe, and for a moment, there’s a wave of dizziness which blacks Ash’s vision out, panic reaching up again to claw at his throat. He shoves it viciously down. He couldn’t afford to freak out now. Not when there were other kids involved. 

Frog crosses the room to the bed, and Ash doesn’t argue or struggle when he reaches out for him, mandhandlin’ him up toward the head of the mattress and onto his back. 

The one thing he could do for Ryan was to keep the attention on himself. That was all he could do, and hope for the most part they left Ryan alone. Ash don’t know what they got planned for the other kid in the room, but the same applies to him. Keep the attention on himself, and away from them.

He doesn’t fight when Frog wrenches his arms up, clampin’ the cuffs over his wrists, tightening ‘em until the metal’s cuttin’ into his skin, and Ash bites the inside of his cheek to keep from makin’ any noise. 

It’s harder not to squirm when Frog’s hands take hold of his knees, spreadin’ his legs apart, wide as they’ll go.

“Still ain’t got no pubes down there?” Frog laughs, astonished. “Shit, you smooth as a baby’s ass boy.”

Ash keeps his teeth clamped together. He’s breathin’ hard, his chest risin’ and fallin’ in rapid, shallow breaths, the panic harder and harder to tamp down. He’s bound and helpless and exposed, and it’s got his nerves jacked too high. He can already feel his hands goin’ numb from how tight the cuffs are.

Frog just keep’s smirkin’ at him, before he turns away.

“Alright, let’s get rollin’.” He nods towards the only other person in the room. Some shithead workin’ the camera on its tripod. 

“Ryan, get up between his legs. You’re gonna suck him off ‘till he’s nice and hard. Got it? And you _better_ get him hard boy, or you’ll be fuckin’ sorry. Got it?”

Ryan nods quickly.

“Y-yes Sir…” he stammers, before crawlin’ up the mattress until he’s right in front of Ash.

This is so fucked up. This is so _fucked_.

Ash turns his face away, clampin’ his eyes shut. They sting and burn. But he can’t cry. He _can’t_. 

_Keep it together, you idiot_ , he tells himself. _Calm the fuck down_.

For a long moment, there’s no sound in the room ‘cept Frog’s fat body lumberin’ back toward his chair, and Ash’s own heartbeat, loud in his ears. 

“Alright, roll it!” Frog calls out.

Ryan knows what that means, and he moves ‘till he’s between Ash’s spread legs, and a moment later, there’s the sickeningly familiar, wet warmth of the inside of a mouth, enveloping Ash’s penis.

Ash’s teeth grind together, his eyes squeezed shut. The panic’s reachin’ up again, his throat tight. He ain’t gettin’ enough air. The sound of Ryan suckin’ him off fills his ears, and it’s all Ash can do to hold still. To not thrash and try and break free. He’ll get Ryan in trouble if he does that. He can’t. He can’t get Ryan in trouble.

“Let’s get some noise from you Ash!” Frog’s voice snaps out. “I ain’t hearin’ no moanin’ and groanin’! Show me how much you like it boy!”

Ash knows he’s gotta do it. He knows if he don’t get hard, Ryan’s the one who’s gonna pay for it. He knows he’s gotta get the fuck outta his head and let his body take over or it’s Ryan who’s gonna pay.

The thought of it makes him sick. Makes him feel like he’s gonna be sick.

It’s not the same as when an adult’s doin’ him like this. 

Ryan’s a little kid, like he is. He’s _younger_ than Ash.

It makes Ash feel like he ain’t no different then, from all the adults who fuck him. Who rape him. How’s he different, if he lets Ryan suck him off and lets himself enjoy it? God… God, he can’t… he can’t do this. Please, _please_ …

“ASH!”

“I-I’m ss-sorry! I’m sorry!” Ash cries out.

Ryan pulls off of him, pulls back. 

Ash’s penis is limp and useless between his legs, and Frog’s up and out of his chair, comin’ towards them.

“I-I just need a minute. J-just give me a minute, please. Just…”

Frog’s palm slaps hard against Ash’s mouth, the words dying in his throat. Blood washes over his tongue. 

“The fuck are you doin’, you stupid little shit!?” He screams in Ash’s face. “You’re wastin’ my fuckin’ time here Ash!”

The panic’s in his throat, and Ash curls his fingers tight, until the pain of his nails diggin’ into his palms distracts him from it. He can feel blood, warm on his skin. 

“I… I know. I’m sorry. I just… I got distracted. I won’t no more. I won’t get distracted.”

“You better not.” Frog tells him. “Or you think maybe it’s Ryan? Just bad technique, huh? Maybe if I smack him around a little…”

“NO!” Ash cries, his voice pitching high, louder than he meant to. 

Frog grins at him.

“Oh? You don’t think it’s Ryan?”

“No, i-it’s me. It’s me. Okay? I’m sorry. I won’t mess up no more. Okay? I promise. Please. Okay?”

Frog stares at him for what seems too long, before he shrugs his shoulders.

“Alright. One more chance Ash. I better not have to get back up outta my chair again.”

“You won’t. I swear you won’t.” 

“Good boy.” 

Ash lays still then as Frog bends over, pushin’ his tongue into his mouth and kissin’ him hard. He lays still, and tries to think of nothin’.

//

Ash keep’s tryin’ to keep his mind blank, focusin’ only on the sensation as Ryan sucks him off, until eventually, his body responds. That warm feelin’ buildin’ in the pit of his stomach, and he lets his mouth fall open so he can moan, long and loud, ‘cause he knows that’s what Frog wants to hear. Knows he needs to be loud about it, ‘cause otherwise, Ryan’s the one who’s gonna pay. 

He gets hard. 

He hates himself for it. 

He wishes he were dead. 

Frog tells Ryan to keep suckin’ at him ‘till he’s just on the edge of comin’, and then he tells Ryan to back off.

The younger boy does, and Ash turns his face, pressin’ it into the mattress underneath him, willing the tears threatening against the backs of his eyes away.

“That was good.” Frog says, and he’s up on his feet again. Comin’ over. “Good job kiddies. Now…”

His hands are on Ash again, undoin’ the cuffs around his wrists.

Ash’s arms have gone numb, and they fall heavy to the bed.

“Since you got a good little erection goin’ there Ash, we can get our money shot.”

He hauls Ash up until he’s sitting back against the bedframe’s headboard. His head’s fuzzy and slow, and it takes him too long to hear what Frog’s sayin’. 

“Ryan, on your hands and knees. That’s right.” 

Ash blinks, and he sees Ryan in front of him, near the foot of the bed, doin’ what Frog tells him.

There’s the sound of a belt bein’ undone, and Ash glances up, past the younger boy. He sees the older one in the corner. The one he didn’t recognize. He’s undoin’ his pants, pushin’ ‘em down his hips, along with his boxers. 

It hits Ash like a pile of bricks what’s happenin’, and the panic he worked so hard to push down comes surging back up, crushing all the rest of it. 

“Get up there, Ash.” Frog’s voice snaps him out of his horror. “You know the drill. You’ll fuck Ryan up the ass, while Murphy over here does you from behind. After that, how ‘bout just you and me have a little fun, huh?”

No, Ash thinks. No. He can’t. He can’t fuck Ryan. He can’t do that. Ryan’s just a little kid. He’s just twelve. He’s twelve years old. Ash can’t. He fucking won’t.

He scarcely realizes what he’s doin’. He’s shakin’ his head hard.

“No.” He says, and his voice sounds detached. Like it ain’t even comin’ from his own throat. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knows this is a bad idea. This is just what you ain’t supposed to do. You ain’t supposed to fight. You ain’t supposed to fight back. It always just made it worse when you did. Ash remembers tellin’ that to Ryan himself, when Ryan’d first been brought to the club. When he’d gotten a chance to finally talk to the other boy. He remembers tellin’ him that you couldn’t never fight back like this, or you’d get hurt bad. They’d beat you. Sometimes they’d beat you to death. 

Somewhere, he knows, it’ll just make it worse for Ryan and the other kid, if he keeps at it. But he can’t do this. He can’t.

“What the fuck was that?” 

“He said no.” Marvin’s voice comes from somewhere in the room, amused. Like he’s laughin’. 

“No?” Frog asks.

Ash keeps shakin’ his head.

“I won’t d-do that. I won’t.”

“Ash, you can’t…” Ryan starts to talk.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Frog’s voice booms, and Ryan’s voice dies away.

Ash’s heart pounds in his chest. He’s breathin’ too hard. Startin’ to hyperventilate. 

“What do you mean “no”, Ash?” Frog asks.

Ash’s voice trembles as he forces it out.

“I can’t do that. I can’t. I w-won’t do that…”

“You think you got a choice, boy?” 

“He’s a fuckin’ spoiled little bitch.” Marvin says. “I fuckin’ told Papa it was a bad idea to keep him around the compound like he does. Little faggot thinks he can make demands now.”

“Oh? You think that’s what goin’ on here Ash? You think you can make demands now?”

Ash knows he can’t. He knows he ain’t got no control here. He knows, somewhere in his brain, what he’s doin’ is a very bad idea. He knows, somewhere in the back of his brain, this could get all of them killed.

But he can’t. He can’t rape Ryan. That’s what it would be. Rape. If he… if he fucks Ryan up the ass like they’re tellin’ him. It would be rape. Ryan’s just a little kid and he can’t… oh… oh God, he can’t do this. Please, please God, help them. Please. He can’t do this…

“Answer me, you fuckin’ cunt!” And suddenly there’s a gun in his face. Suddenly, Frog’s got a gun, and he’s pushin’ the barrel of it against Ash’s teeth, forcin’ it ‘til they come apart, and he shoves the barrel into his mouth. “How ‘bout I blow your fuckin’ head off? Would that get ya more compliant?”

It won’t, Ash thinks desperately.

He don’t care if he dies. He _don’t care_. And the panic’s overwhelmed by sudden, blinding rage. He don’t care if he dies. He’d rather die than do this. He’d rather fuckin’ _die_!

Frog sees it. He sees it in the way Ash glares back up at him, unmoving, his eyes filled with rage.

Frog stares back at him, his own face, for an instant, slack with surprise. 

And then it pulls together, and he smiles.

He pulls the gun out from Ash’s mouth and steps back.

“… Yeah. You’re a real badass, ain’t ya Ash? A real tough little bastard. You really don’t care if you live or die, do you?”

Ash only glares back, teeth bared in hate.

He hates Frog. He fuckin’ hates _all_ of ‘em.

“Nah. You don’t care if you die. But how’s you feel ‘bout Ryan over here? Huh? You care if he gets a bullet in the head?”

Frog steps fast, and at once he’s got Ryan by the hair, and he’s draggin’ him up off the bed, onto the floor, shovin’ him to his knees.

Ryan cries out, voice ripping from his throat in terror as Frog slams the barrel of his gun against his temple.

Ash’s heart stops.

And fast at his rage came, it’s gone, replaced by blinding horror.

Frog cocks the hammer, his finger tight over the trigger.

“How about it, Ash boy? You don’t wanna fuck Ryan here? The price is his fuckin’ head then. How about it?”

Ash can’t breathe.

No. He didn’t… he didn’t think. He hadn’t thought. Only his own despair and guilt made him act so fucking reckless and stupid and now… now…

“Don’t…” he starts, his voice thin. “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Frog grins at him, his teeth yellow and crooked. Ash can see the tabaco dark between the gaps. “Blow his brains out? You think I won’t do it? It ain’t no problem. There’s dozen’s ‘a kids lined up to take this worthless shits place. Yeah. Now I think of it, Papa wouldn’t be too happy I guess if I was to kill his prized boy toy, would he? Killin’ you wouldn’t get me nowhere but the shithouse. But Ryan here’s just another dime a dozen catalog cum bucket. Ain’t nobody gonna miss his worthless ass. Might even make some cash. You know there’s plenty ‘a sicko’s out there get off on them snuff films. What do ya say Ash? Should I blow his brains all over the floor here? And hey, you get to keep your precious morals in tact then, huh? Since I’m guessin’ that’s the problem? Don’t wanna get those filthy little hands ‘a yours any dirtier than they already are?”

Ryan’s crying. He’s sobbing. 

Ash watches him, and his own vision goes blind with tears.

It’s over.

Frog would kill Ryan. Ash knows he would. He knows that. He knew it all along.

“Fuck Froggy, you made ‘em both cry.” Marvin laughs from somewhere in the room. “Look at that.”

“You want me to blow his brains out Ash?” Frog asks.

Ash shakes his head. 

“… No.”

“What was that?”

“No. No, no, no…” Ash’s voice comes out a broken, pathetic sob. He lifts his hands, covering his face in shame. He cries openly, and it doesn’t matter. 

He doesn’t know what he’d been thinkin’. He doesn’t know why he’d thought… why he’d thought he could do anything at all.

“I didn’t think so.” Frog says. “Go on then, back up on the bed. Back into position.” 

Ash feels the bed dip as Ryan climbs back on.

“Now you gonna be a good little boy and do what I tell ya from here on, Ash?” 

Ash nods. Shame keeps his face covered.

“I wanna hear you say it Ash. Tell me you’re gonna be a good little boy and do what I tell ya from here on.”

“… I…” 

“Come on Ash. Tell me, nice and clear, before I change my mind.”

“I-I’ll be a g-good… good little boy and do what you t-tell me from here on.” 

“Good boy.” Frog’s hand comes down on top of his head, ruffling his hair.

And Ash thinks about the feeling of his own gun’s barrel, pressed against his temple. The cold metal biting into his skin.

He thinks about how much he wishes then that he had just pulled the trigger.

//

Ash tells Ryan he’s sorry. He tells him he’s sorry, and it’s worthless, because he still ends up fuckin’ him.

It makes him the worlds worst hypocrite, he thinks, and he hates himself so much, it’s like he’s gonna choke to death from how much he does. Like he can’t breathe, and he can’t stop cryin’, and neither can Ryan, and Marvin and Frog are laughin’ and laughin’.

It’s just what they want.

After, Frog sends Ryan and that other kid away with Marvin. Back to Club Cod, Ash guesses. And then he fucks Ash some more. He films that too, and takes pictures, for his own, private use, and Ash knows he shouldn’t cry no more. That it just eggs ‘em on and makes ‘em meaner. But it’s worse than any nightmare. All of it. And Ash can’t help it sometimes. He can’t help it. And Frog slaps him around and tells him he’s a faggot and fucks him ‘till he’s bleedin’ too much. 

Everythin’ goes blank for a while after that. Ash don’t know what happened. If he passed out or what.

Ash don’t know either how much later it is when Marvin comes back to get him and bring him back to Papa’s. He don’t know.

He’s lyin’ on that bed still when he does, and Frog ain’t around. Ash don’t remember him leavin’, but he guesses he musta’ at some point. 

Marvin’s yellin’ at him. Tellin’ him to hurry up and get dressed. Ash’s head feels like it’s been hit hard or somethin’, his thoughts distant and confused. Marvin’s got a fresh set of clothes for him. Ash manages to get dressed somehow. He don’t quite remember how. 

And then Marvin’s got him by the arm, and he’s draggin’ him back outside, back to his car.

Ash stumbles along. There’s already a vicious ache forming up his backside, into his back. His shoulders are stiff, his legs weak. They wabble and threaten to give out from under him.

Everything feels distant, like some kinda’ black dream. 

And it’s funny, almost, Ash thinks. It’s funny.

He almost thought today had been a good day. With Alex and the others. He’d almost felt like a normal kid, hangin’ out with them.

He guesses, though, that had been the dream. 

This was his real life.

And real life didn’t care nothin’ for dreams.

Didn’t care nothin’ at all.

He’d been stupid, he guesses, to let himself believe for even a second that it did.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, all my thanks to all my readers! You guys are awesome!

Dino keeps him for more than a month.

By the time he’s allowed to go back out on the streets, it’s almost November, and it’s blistering cold. There’s snow beginning to drift down from the grey sky, icy crystals landing silent along the ground. By nightfall, everything’ll start to freeze.

Ash wraps his arms around himself, frigid air biting against the exposed skin of his cheeks, eyes watering, vision blurred. 

The cold even cuts through the expensive, down jacket Dino had given him before letting him go, sinking into his bones and making his teeth ache, and Ash knows it’d be stupid as hell to dump it, even as guilt churns sick in his stomach at the thought of accepting help from that bastard.

He couldn’t stay out here. He’d freeze to death if he did. But he ain’t got no money, and with the weather like this, all the shelters’ll be full.

He can still hear Dino’s smug fuckin’ voice, tellin’ him he was “welcome to stay” at the compound up in Jersey if he wanted. 

Ash didn’t say nothin’, but he wanted to tell Dino he’d rather get shot in the fuckin’ face then spend another day there up in that fancy prison.

Ash ain’t exactly stupid though, and he knows his pride might’ve landed him in serious shit this time.

It was just… he couldn’t stand another minute of it, bein’ with Dino up there. He couldn’t.

Turns out Ash’d had fuckin’ chlamydia. Wasn’t no surprise, given everything, but Dino had been pissed. Mostly ‘cause he couldn’t just fuck him right then and there, Ash thinks. Not unless he wanted to get that shit too. Least Frog probably had to go get tested after that. Ash didn’t ask, but most likely Marvin told him. He told Dino ‘bout Ryan and that other kid, Murphy though. Told him they’ll need to get tested too. It'd pissed Dino off plenty, him infectin’ his other ‘merchandise’ like that, and he'd slaped Ash around for it.

Either way, him gettin' an STD was probably what made Dino hold onto him for so long this time. Ash’d been doin’ bad when he’d been brought up to the compound by Marvin, sick and ratty. He’d lost somethin’ close to ten pounds while he’d been out there on the streets those few weeks, and that’d pissed Dino off too, sent him into a fuckin’ rant about how Ash was going to “destroy his beauty” if he kept abusin’ himself like this. As if Ash had any kinda choice. As if what Dino and all the rest of 'em were doin' to him didn't qualify as the worst kinda' abuse. Usually Dino only kept him a week, maybe two. But he wanted Ash for longer this time, and all the while, in between fuckin’ Ash near every night and havin' to sit through his dumb fuckin' lessons by Dino's idiot tutors, he was rentin’ him out to all those high payin’ pervs who wanted a night with his most expensive whore too, either invitin’ them to do it up at the compound, or sendin’ Ash over to Club Cod.

If it was a choice between doin’ that forever and ever, or takin’ his chances out here, Ash knew which one he was gonna choose every time.

God… he can still taste Dino’s fuckin’ come inside his mouth from last night, the bitter sourness of it thick on the back of his tongue. 

He shoves his hands into the pits of his arms, his fingers already numb and burning from the cold. He’s only been out here a few minutes. Marvin dropped him off. Thank fuck the pig didn’t want no sex or nothin’ this time. 

Fuck…

He had to think of somethin’ and fast, or he was gonna be in real trouble.

And he remembers suddenly, before Marvin had come for him that night and taken him to Frog’s, Alex tellin’ him he could come and crash at his place, if he wanted, and Ash tellin’ him he would when he got a chance.

He wonders… he wonders if Alex would still be willin’…

Man, he was probably pissed at Ash for never showin’ like he said he would and never tellin’ him where he went. He was probably gonna make a complete idiot of himself, if he showed up now, and then… then Alex would probably have all kinds’a questions and shit.

… Only, there wasn’t no place else for Ash to go, ‘cept maybe if he could find some kinda’ restroom somewhere that nobody was usin’ and hole up in there for the night. 

That wasn’t likely to work out though. He’d have to block the door, and someone might tell whoever was in charge and things could get ugly then.

He was just gonna have to deal with it and whatever Alex might wanna know, and if Alex didn’t want him around no more, that was fine. Ash’d understand. He’d just have to come up with somethin’ else. Wasn’t like he hadn’t had to do the same a million times before.

//

Alex’s place is easy enough to find again. He’d milled around outside the entrance to the tenement for a while, hesitating when he realized he didn’t even know if Alex would be home, and rememberin’ suddenly that he had a mom and younger sister he lived with. If Alex wasn’t there and Ash showed up lookin’ for a place to stay, he’d probably end up scarin’ the shit outta the two girls, and he didn’t wanna do that. 

But the sun had already started goin’ down while he fucked around tryin’ to decide what to do, the temperature droppin’ rapidly with it, and finally he’d decided he had to take his chances.

So here he was, standin’ out in the hallway in front of Alex’s front door, and he’s still not sure he should do this. He keeps liftin’ his fist and then droppin’ it, and he can’t believe how nervous he feels over somethin’ so stupid.

So what if he freaked the two girls out? So what if Alex didn’t want him around no more? It wasn’t like any of it mattered. Ash’d just deal with it like he dealt with everythin’ else. It’d be fine.

He shakes his head, disgusted with himself, and finally forces himself to knock, loud as he can, against the door.

“Just a minute!” He hears a voice from the other side call out. It’s Alex, Ash is pretty sure.

For a moment, Ash thinks maybe he should just leave. Turn around and run and disappear down the stairwell before Alex can open the door. But he hears footsteps crossing the floor, and it’s too late for that now anyway, so he tries to look relaxed instead, foldin’ his arms across his chest. He’s holdin’ himself too tight, he thinks, but he can’t get the tension to go out, and the door swings open suddenly and he’s lookin’ up at the older boy.

Alex has got a shocked look on his face, his mouth hangin’ open as he stares down at Ash with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“… Hey.” Ash starts.

“Ash!” Alex nearly shouts. “Holy shit, you’re alive!”

Ash blinks up at him.

“Uh… yeah…”

“Jesus Christ man, I thought you were dead or somethin’!”

Ash shakes his head. Alex sounds relieved, though Ash can’t really understand why. The kid barely knew him.

“No. I’m alive.” 

“Thank fuck, man! Kong and Bones ae gonna be psyched when I tell ‘em! We thought… I mean… when you didn’t show up like you said you would, and then… I mean, none of us saw you for weeks, s-so we just thought…”

Alex rubs the back of his head, suddenly unsure and nervous.

Ash casts his eyes away and doesn’t say nothin’. 

He doesn’t wanna answer none of these questions right now. He guesses Alex musta’ told Kong and Bones what it was he did at night. Told ‘em he was a hooker. He wonders what they thought of him now, if they knew. Probably thought he was a slut.

Alex, at least, seems to get that Ash don’t wanna talk about none of this, and Ash can feel the tension drain outta his shoulders when the older boy asks him if he wants to come in.

“Actually, I was wonderin’…” Ash starts, and he hates the way his voice shakes, his hands beginning to fidget with the hem of his coat. Why the hell was he so nervous about this? “I… ain’t really got no place to stay right now, s-so I was wonderin’ if I could maybe stay with you for a couple days? J-just ‘till I can make some cash and get back on my feet. I’ll pay you back whatever you think it’s worth.”

“Shit, of course man! It’s no problem!”

Ash finally glances up at Alex. He’s grinning at Ash, and there ain’t nothin’ dirty or lyin’ about it. He just seems happy. Ash don’t understand why, but he ain’t gonna worry about it now.

“You sure?” He asks.

“Hell yeah Ash. You’re always welcome to stay here with me! Come on in!”

“W-what about your mom and sister though? Won’t they mind?”

“Pff, naw! They’re used to me havin’ my guys over all the time. They’re used to it. Don’t worry. Come on. Hey, you ain’t been wanderin’ around out there all day or nothin’, have you? It’s fuckin’ cold as shit.”

Ash shakes his head.

“Just a few hours.”

“Alright, well, come on. We was actually about to just sit down for dinner. You hungry? Hey, you ain’t met my Mom and sis yet, have ya?”

Alex turns and walks back into the apartment, and Ash guesses that’s his invitation in, so he follows, swallowing down the unease he feels at the realization he was gonna have to talk to other people. It was better than tryin’ to find an air vent to sleep on top of for the night though, he guesses.

“You can just close the door behind you. Make sure you bolt it though. Fuckin’ shitty neighborhood, ya know? The guy a couple doors down from us just got robbed the other night. If they knew we had a fuckin’ Atari, they probably woulda’ hit our place instead. ‘Course, they woulda’ been sorry if they had.”

Ash does like Alex asks, bolting the lock behind him.

When he turns back around, Alex is already in the kitchen. Ash spots who he guesses is his mom at the stove, stirrin’ somethin’ in a big, metal pot. On the couch is a girl about his age, playin’ the Atari. 

She turns and looks at Ash, and he sees her eyes get big. She stares at him for several seconds, before she seems to realize what she’s doin’ and turns away, his cheeks goin’ red. 

Ash swallows and looks away.

“Hey Mom, it cool if one of my friends stays here a couple days? He ain’t got nowhere else right now, but he won’t make no trouble.”

“Sure, babe.” 

Alex’s mom sounds bored, not even botherin’ to look at who it is her sons just invited in as she continues to stir the pot. 

“Hey man, what’re you still doin’ standin’ over there? Come on! I got a new game for the Atri! You wanna play?”

Ash blinks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still standin’ by the front door.

“Oh… s-sure.” He stammers, feelin’ stupid. 

He starts forward, awkward and outta place. He can feel the girl’s eyes on him again, and he makes a point of not lookin’ back. She’s gotta be Alex’s sister. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to people starin’ at him. People did that all the time, ‘cause of his looks, he guesses. But he hadn’t been around too many girls his own age before, and she was makin’ him feel nervous.

“Here, lemme get your jacket.” Alex meets him halfway across the room, holdin’ his hands out.

Ash stares at him uncomprehendingly a moment, before he realizes what the older boy wants, and he reaches his hands up, starting to undo the button of the coat he’s wearing.

Alex whistles as he starts to hand the article to him.

“Wooee, where’d you get such a nice jacket man?” He asks, turning the thing over in his hands and lookin’ closer at it. “This here’s some expensive shit!”

Ash feels himself stiffen, his hands curling to fists at his sides.

“Heck, now that I look at ya, all your clothes lookin’ designer man. You win the lottery or somethin’?” 

Alex laughs, and Ash looks at the floor, his face burning with shame. He shoulda’ dumped the damn things before comin’ here. But he didn’t have no money, so what the hell was he supposed to do? Walk around out there naked?

“… No.” He croaks out. “It’s not important.”

“Oh.” Alex says. “Okay. It was just, last time I saw ya, you were…”

“One of my John’s gave ‘em to me.”

It’s only half a lie, anyway. Dino wasn’t no John of his. But he knew there were plenty of John’s who gave their favorite hooker’s presents and shit. The girls were always tellin’ him they had this John or that who was always givin’ ‘em extra shit. Dino was always givin’ him shit too, even though he didn’t want none of it. 

“Oh, right…” Alex’s voice gets lower, like he doesn’t want his mom and sister overhearin’ what they’re sayin’. Ash can’t blame him. He doesn’t guess they’d be too thrilled, knowin’ they were hostin’ a prostitute in their apartment for dinner.

Ash nods his head toward the girl of the couch. She’s still lookin’ at him, he can tell.

“That your sister?” He asks.

The big grin on Alex’s face tells him it is.

“Yup. That’s Samantha! We call her Sam though, so you can too!”

Ash nods.

“Okay. How old is she? She looks like that coat’d fit her. You can give it to her, if you want.”

Alex’s eyes go all big again with surprise, lookin’ down at the coat in his hands and then back up at Ash. 

“Shit, really?” He asks like he can’t believe it.

Ash shrugs.

“Yeah. It’s really warm, so it’d be useful. She can have it if it’ll fit.”

“You sure? I mean, this is an expensive coat. Even my poor ass can tell.”

It was fuckin’ Armani, so yeah, it was expensive. Probably cost Dino somethin’ like 1500 bucks, if Ash had to guess. Him givin’ it to someone he knew was better than just tossin’ it in the good will bin though. 

“I’m sure, yeah.”

“O-okay. Alright. If you’re good with it. Sam’ll really appreciate it. She actually just had a growth-spurt and her old coat don’t really fit her too good no more. Oh, yeah, you asked how old she is. She just turned 14 like a week ago.”

“Alright.” Ash nods again. He doesn’t really wanna keep talkin’ about where he got the clothes and shit. “So where’s this new game you were gonna show me?”

“Oh, right! Come on over. You can give Sam the coat yourself, if you want!”

Alex shoves the coat back into Ash’s hands. Ash opens his mouth to protest, but Alex is already striding away, toward his sister.

“Hey, Sam, come meet my friend!”

Ash huffs, crossing his arms over his chest again and reluctantly following behind the older boy.

Alex’s sister, Samantha, looks away again as soon as he turns toward her, her cheeks still red, and Ash feels his own face grow hot. Jesus, this was stupid. Her embarrassment was makin’ him feel awkward!

“Sam, this is Ash. He’s a friend of mine. Here, he brought this coat for you, so what do you say?!”

Fuck, Ash was gonna smack Alex upside his stupid head for puttin’ him in this position. His teeth grit together, forcin’ himself to step forward and hold the coat out to the girl. He stares at the floor, feelin’ like an idiot.

“F-for me?” Samantha’s voice is high and squeaky.

“… It’s a guys coat, but it’s good. It’ll fit ya, I think.” Ash offers, still keepin’ his eyes away.

“Bu… but why would you… why would he…?”

Ash can feel his nerves windin’ too tight, his fingers curlin’ into the material of the coat.

“Look, if you don’t want it…” he starts, his voice comin’ out harsher than he meant it to.

“She wants it.” Alex cuts in. “Sam, tell him thanks and take the coat!”

“O-okay.” Samantha squeaks again. 

Ash can feel when her light grip takes hold of the material, and he lets go quickly so she can take it.

“Th-thank you, Ash.” She says, her voice softer now. 

Ash shrugs. Man, he can’t look at this girl. What the hell was wrong with him?

“That’s a funny name. Ash. Is it your real name?”

Ash starts, lookin’ up at her finally.

She’s lookin’ back at him too now, her cheeks still flushed, but gaze steady.

He shakes his head.

“Naw. My real name’s Aslan.”

He can’t remember the last time anyone even asked him what his real name was. Can’t remember the last time anyone called him by it. Musta’ been back in Cape Cod. Back with Griff.

Samantha smiles, and she looks just like Alex when she does.

“That’s so pretty! You should use it!”

Ash shrugs, lookin’ away again.

Nobody called him Aslan no more. That hadn’t been his name in a long time. Not really.

“Alright, alright, move over Sam! I wanna show him the new game!”

Alex’s sister frowns, stickin’ her tongue out at her brother. He sticks his tongue back at her, but she scoots over to one end of the couch anyway, makin’ space.

There’s a sudden, pained emptiness inside Ash’s chest, seein’ the two of them interact like that.

He remembers him and Griff makin’ faces at each other all the time. Remembers Griff pullin’ his mouth in all sorts ‘a crazy directions, scrunchin’ his eyes and nose up, and Ash remembers how much it always made him laugh.

He misses Griff. He misses him so much sometimes, and it hurts. Thinkin’ about him. It hurts like someone’s blown a hole right through him and ain’t nothin’ ever gonna fill it up again. 

… He thinks he’s gonna be alone the rest of his life. However long that lasts. He’s gonna die alone, he thinks, with no one in the world who’ll even care.

He wonders if that’s how Griff felt, when he died? 

He hopes not. 

He hopes Griff remembered how much his little brother had loved him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Here's a new chapter! Please let me know your thoughts if you have a chance!

Alex’s family has got a folding, vinal-topped table that they use to eat their meals at, and Ash helps him to set it and some matching chairs up in the living room, and then helps him set out the plates and junk for dinner.

Alex’s mom makes spaghetti and meat balls, and Ash can’t remember the last time he ever saw so much food on his plate. It’s like a mountain of the stuff. Alex keeps pilin’ it on, and Ash almost tells him to stop, but he don’t want to be rude or nothin’, so he don’t say anything, and Alex’s mom sets the metal pot she used to cook the stuff right in the middle of the table and tells him he’s welcome to as much extra as he wants.

Just the thought of eating all of what’s on his plate has Ash feelin’ kinda’ sick, but he just nods and mutters out a thank you.

Alex’s family is nice. His mom asks Ash how it is he knows Alex, and Ash almost panics tryin’ to come up with some lie that won’t make Alex look bad, but Alex does it for him, tellin’ her he knows Ash from ‘school’.

Ash didn’t even know Alex went to no school. He just assumed he didn’t, ‘cause that was how it was for most street kids. His mom seems to buy it, just smilin’ at Ash and nodding. 

Samantha knows Alex is lyin’ though, Ash thinks, from the unimpressed look she gives her older brother. It’s kinda’ funny, but Ash ain’t stupid enough to say nothin’ about it. He keeps mostly quiet, only talkin’ when someone asks him somethin’, which thankfully ain’t too often. 

The food’s good too. Ash can only eat about a quarter of it ‘for he starts to feel queasy though, and Alex’s mom asks if he doesn’t like it.

“No, I do. I just can’t eat very much.” He tells her. 

She looks at him all like she’s worried.

“You’re so skinny though. You should really try to eat more if you can.”

Ash don’t say much, ‘cept that he’ll try. He manages to force down a couple more mouthfuls, but that’s all he can do, and thankfully Alex’s mom don’t press more after that.

Samantha keeps lookin’ at him, her cheeks flushin’ every time Ash looks back.

It’s funny how much she looks like Alex. They’ve got almost the same face, ‘cept Samantha looks like if Alex was a girl, her features a little softer. Same, chestnut brown hair though, only hers is halfway down her back in a ponytail, and her eyes are a darker shade of brown than his. She’s got a big gap between her two front teeth. But she’s kinda’ cute, Ash guesses. He don’t really know what makes a girl cute to a guy, but he guesses she would be it. 

He wishes she would stop starin’ at him so much though. It was makin’ him antsy. People usually stared at him ‘cause they wanted to fuck him, and he don’t wanna do that with her or no one else either. 

It feels weird, sittin’ here in someone else’ home, eatin’ dinner with ‘em, and everything’s just… normal. Last time he did this and it was all normal was back in Cape Cod, with Griff and Dad and Jennifer. 

Maybe normal wasn’t the right word for that though.

Dad had almost always been drunk at night, and he couldn’t usually keep what he really thought of Ash to himself then.

Ash remembers the last time they’d all been together, and Dad had gone off on a rant, his voice slurrin’ and angry, his face gettin’ redder and redder as he pointed his finger at Ash and accused him again of shitting all over his life, sayin’ how it was ‘cause of him his real mom had run away and never come back.

He remembers Griff had started yellin’ back at Dad, tellin’ him to lay off, sayin’ it was his fault his girlfriend had left, ‘cause he was such a deadbeat, and then they’d been yellin’ at each other, and Ash remembers how he’d covered his ears and started cryin’, because he hated it so much when Griff and Dad yelled at each other like that.

And then Griff had grabbed Ash up in his arms and carried him outta the restaurant, and back to their house.

That was the last time they’d all had dinner together.

The only kinda’ dinners he had now were at Papa Dino’s, and those were fucked beyond words. Usually Ash was only there to show off to potential partners in whatever messed up business Dino was gettin’ into at the moment, either to flaunt in their face or use as incentive. 

Ash don’t know what he thinks of this. It’s awkward, and weird, so he just tries to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

‘Least he wasn’t freezin’ his ass off outside, he guesses.

After dinner, Ash helps clean up. It’s the least he can do since Alex and his family are lettin’ him stay. He’ll have to ask Alex again what he wants for the favor. But after his family goes to bed, he thinks. He’s guessin’ the mom don’t know ‘bout the drug runnin’, though Samantha probably does. Ash is expectin’ Marvin’s fat ass is gonna come around soon with another job for them to pull. But he don’t really wanna think about that right now. He feels lucky Dino let him go this time without any immediate conditions. 

He just hopes it’s a drug run, and not… not a hit. Please, God, don’t let it be a hit again.

Alex’s mom heads off to bed after that, and Ash, Alex and his sister stay up for a while together, playin’ some more video games.

Samantha keeps sayin’ how impressed she is at how good Ash is at the games, keeps starin’ at him and blushin’ every time he looks back.

It’s awkward, and Ash feels kinda’ bad that he’s relieved when she finally goes to bed herself and it’s just him and Alex left.

“Damn, Sam’s crushin’ on you hard man!” Alex laughs as soon as his sister disappears into her bedroom. 

“Lay off…” Ash mutters, keepin’ focused on wrappin’ the game controller’s cord back up.

“She kept whisperin’ in my ear, askin’ me all kindsa’ questions ‘bout you!” Alex keeps on, laughing. “Well, can’t like I can blame her. You’re fuckin’ good lookin’ Ash. You must hear that all the time though.”

Ash can feel his teeth grind together, a spike of rage hot in his chest. His hands spasm around the controller.

“I said fuckin’ lay off!” He snaps.

Alex goes quiet, the silence heavy between them.

Ash closes his eyes, regret chockin’ his throat a moment after the words leave his mouth. 

Shit… he didn’t mean…

“… Sorry man.” Alex says, his voice low and nervous.

Ash’s hands tighten around the control, squeezin’ hard enough to feel like it’s gonna break, before he realizes what he’s doin’, and he shakes his head.

“No, I… I’m sorry. Shit. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. That was stupid. You’re lettin’ me stay at your place and I take your head off over nothin’. I’m sorry Alex.” 

“H-hey man, it’s cool. I shouldn’t ‘a teased you ‘bout your looks. Way punks on the streets are, I know they probly give you shit ‘bout it all the time.”

Ash keeps his eyes fixed on his lap.

“… Somethin’ like that.” He mumbles, more to himself. He doesn’t wanna talk about none of this. 

“S-so, hey… you wanna beer? We got Budweiser, if you want one.” Alex starts, and Ash is just grateful for the change in subject.

“Sure.” He answers. His hands are shakin’, he realizes.

He pushes himself up off the couch and walks with stiff legs to the entertainment cabinet that Alex keeps the gaming stuff in, puttin’ the controller away. 

Alex gets up too, goin’ to the kitchen to get the beer, Ash guesses.

God, there was somethin’ so fuckin’ wrong with him. Why the hell’d he have to snap at Alex like that? The older boy was just ribbin’ him. Ash knows he didn’t mean nothin’ by it. 

He was such a fuckin’ freak.

“Here ya go man!” Alex is back, standin’ next to him and holdin’ out a can of beer.

Ash blinks, shovin’ away the awful feelin’ in his chest.

“… Thanks.” He takes the beer and stares at the can.

He ain’t had too much of this kinda’ stuff before. Dino made him drink wine and all that fancy shit. Beer was for lowlifes, he said. Well, what the fuck was Ash if he wasn’t a lowlife? Dino liked to remind him all the time ‘bout what white trash he was. If he thought so, Ash couldn’t figure why the hell he spent so much time on him then, tryin’ to make him all cultured and shit. 

Alex flops back down on the couch, the sound of him flippin’ the tab on his beer weirdly loud in the sudden quiet of the apartment.

“Oh, by the way, I got a couple blowup mattresses since the last time you spent the night! So you won’t have to sleep on the floor this time! Pretty cool, right!?”

“… Yeah.” Ash mumbles.

He moves back over to the couch, feelin’ awkward and stupid, and sits down. He keeps his eyes on the beer in his hands, messin’ with the tab a few second before flippin’ it open and takin’ a sip. 

It’s nasty. Bitter and cheap tastin’. But Ash’d rather swallow this swill than the thousand dollar bottles of wine Dino gives him and drills him on. If Ash don’t get his guess right ‘bout which kinda’ wine it is, Dino always slaps him right in the teeth. Sometimes, he makes Ash sit next to him, and he’ll do all kindsa’ perved out shit to him, touchin’ him and fondling him, sometimes right in front ‘a guests. 

Ash swallows and shakes his head.

He can’t be thinkin’ ‘bout that shit right now.

“So… what happened to you man? Where’d you disappear to for a whole month?” Alex’s voice knocks him outta his thoughts. Ash don’t miss the way it’s quiet and timid. Like he’s afraid to ask. 

He don’t answer for a long while. He don’t know how much he should tell Alex, ‘bout Dino. ‘Bout all that.

Alex already knew he was a fuckin’ whore, and probably Kong and Bones did now too. Wasn’t like it could get much worse than that, except… except bein’ a whore was his choice, at least. Out here on the streets, it was. What went on with Dino and Marvin and the rest of ‘em wasn’t… it wasn’t Ash’s choice. He didn’t choose to do none of that stuff. They… they made him do it and… and that made it… that made him… 

“You don’t gotta answer.” Alex starts again. “I don’t mean to be so nosy. We was just worried about you man. That’s all.”

Ash keeps his eyes fixed on his lap.

He feels like an asshole.

Alex was doin’ him a hell of a favor, lettin’ him stay here for the next few days. The least he could do was be honest with him, he guesses.

“… I was up at Papa Dino’s.” He finally answers. His voice comes out thin and shaky, and he hates what a weak bitch he is. 

“… Oh. Really? You mean Dino Golzine’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Alex goes quiet for a few minutes then. He sounds like he just realized somethin’, and Ash knows exactly what it is. He keeps drinkin’ his beer, keepin’ his eyes anywhere but toward the older boy. He knows that ain’t the end of it. He’s just waitin’.

“Is…” Alex finally starts again, and he sounds even more scared than before. “Is what they say ‘bout Golzine true? I mean that… th-that he’s into kids and stuff?”

Ash can feel his lips twist up in a bitter smile.

“Yeah, that’s true.” 

“Fuck.” 

Alex’s voice shakes now, thin with horror.

Ash don’t say nothin’. Wasn’t nothin’ to say, really. Alex knew now. He knew what was goin’ on. Whatever he thought of Ash now, wasn’t nothin’ he could do to change it.

“So… Golzine a faggot or somethin’?” Alex asks.

Ash’s hand squeezes tight over his can of beer, almost crushin’ it. 

People called _him_ that all the time. A faggot. They thought he had to be, ‘cause of his looks. ‘Cause he was ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’ or whatever. ‘Cause he got fucked by guys all the time. Ash don’t know what the fuck he is though. He don’t wanna have sex with nobody. He ain’t never looked at nobody and thought he wanted to fuck ‘em, or for them to fuck him. Never wanted to kiss nobody. Not really. Maybe like once or twice, he thought about what it would be like, if it was with someone different than his John’s, or Dino. Dino always kissed him, but Ash never kissed back. It made him feel sick just to think about it. 

He don’t know what he finds attractive or nothin’.

One time he was flippin’ through a magazine, and there was this male model. All he was wearin’ was some underwear. He was real good lookin’ and all, and Ash thought for a minute what it’d be like to kiss him. He stared at that picture for a while, he remembers, and then he’d stuck his hand down the front of his pants and given himself a few strokes, keepin’ his eyes on the guy in the picture. He’d tried it for a while, but could only get like half hard, until finally he gave up. That was how it always was, whenever he tried jerkin’ off. Every time he did, he got real sick to the stomach, like he was gonna hurl, and couldn’t ever get himself there. 

Sometimes, if he thought about touchin’ himself, like really focused on it, he could feel his cock jump, like he wanted it. But the second he did, there was nothin’. He’d just go limp in his own hand.

But then… plenty ‘a times, Marvin or Dino or Frog would jerk him off, and he’d fuckin’ come, a hot shot of pleasure all through his belly when he did. It was fuckin’ awful, ‘cause Ash didn’t know how they did it. He didn’t want their filthy fuckin’ hands on him at all. Just the thought of ‘em touchin’ him really did make him sick. Would make him puke. But they always got him to come, and Ash fuckin’ hated himself so much when they did. God, he… he wanted to die, every time they did. ‘Cause… ‘cause it was like he was enjoyin’ it or somethin’. Like he _wanted_ it. And he _didn’t_. He _knows_ he didn’t. It was the worst thing in the world to him, their hands on him like that. It always made his thoughts turn black with disgust. With awful, paralyzing fear. ‘Cause they had control over him then. They even had control over what his body did, and he couldn’t… couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand that even his own fuckin’ body wasn’t his. Wouldn’t do what he wanted, but they knew how to get it to react. Ash hated himself for it. He don’t know how they did it when he couldn’t do it to himself even. 

Maybe he was a fag. He don’t know. But he knows a fag ain’t what Dino is. People made that mistake all the time too. It wasn’t the fuckin’ same.

“No.” He answers Alex, his voice sharp and hard. “Dino ain’t a fag. He’s a pedophile. All’s a fag is, is a guy who likes guys. A guy who finds other guys sexually attractive. Dino likes little boys. It ain’t even about sex. It’s about control and power. That’s what gets him off. Bein’ able to control you.”

“O-oh… uhh…” Alex stammers.

Ash glances at him, and Alex is lookin’ back at him, eyes wide. He looks freaked out, like he don’t know what to say or do.

Ash looks away, his shoulders hunchin’ up near his ears. He wishes he hadn’t said nothin’ now.

“Look, it’s no big deal. Alright? Don’t worry about it.”

“… B-but Golzine, he’s… he’s… I mean, w-with you?” 

“Is he havin’ sex with me? That what you tryin’ to ask?” Ash grinds out. 

Shit, this was fucked up. He shouldn’t ‘a said nothin’. But Alex had asked, and he was lettin’ Ash stay here. Maybe he wouldn’t, now. Now that he knew what a fucked up freak Ash was.

Alex goes quiet for a minute, and when Ash looks back up at him, he sees the older boy lookin’ away, eyes fixed on his own beer, his mouth twisted into a frown.

Ash keeps lookin’ back at him, turning to face him head on.

“Yeah. The answers yes. Dino fucks me when he wants. I’m his fuckin’ sex toy. Alright?”

Alex’s mouth somehow twists more, and he shakes his head. He won’t look at Ash now. That ain’t really a surprise. People didn’t wanna look at you, when you represented somethin’ truly ugly in the world.

“Fuck, that… that’s fucked up Ash. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Ain’t nothin’ you did wrong.” Ash looks away finally. 

He rolls the can of Bud in his hands and shrugs. 

“I’m used to it. It’s just my life.”

“B-but it’s fucked up. You shouldn’t… I mean… h-how’d you end up with… I mean… how’d you end up with him, l-like that, I mean?”

“… I ran away from home when I was eight. I’m from Cape Cod, Mass. You could probably tell from my accent. I ran away from home and one ‘a Dino’s guys found me, brought me to him. Wasn’t much I could do, I guess. ‘Cept not run away from home. That was dumb of me. But back home wasn’t… wasn’t workin’ for me. There was a lotta’ shit and I…”

He freezes, shakin’ his head. He didn’t need to go into all that. Alex didn’t need to know all that.

“So you ain’t got no family? No one you can call for help?”

Ash feels his mouth pull tight. He shakes his head.

“… No. Just my Dad, and he don’t want me no how. Anyway, Dino’d kill him if I tried that.”

“He’d…? Is that how come Golzine don’t pay you, when we do drug runs? ‘Cause he…?”

“He don’t pay me ‘cause he thinks he owns me. And I… I guess he does. He’d kill me or someone I cared about if I tried to run away, so… ”

Ash’s eyes sting, and he reaches up, swipin’ angrily at ‘em. He can’t cry. Wasn’t no point in it.

He shrugs again, knockin’ back a swig of beer.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to lay all this on you. You asked, and I thought I owed it to you to be honest, so… I know it ain’t what people wanna hear, so I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Alex says. “I mean… Jesus… what are you apologizin’ for? You’re the one who’s…”

His voice trails off.

Ash feels sick.

Yeah, he was the one. He was the one who was the victim. That’s what Alex was gonna say. He was the one who’d been raped and molested by grown men. Shit… Alex didn’t know even half of it. Dino was just one of ‘em. Just one of ‘em who’d… who’d…

He shakes his head, and wipes again at his eyes.

“Don’t… d-don’t tell Kong and Bones about it though. Okay? Don’t tell ‘em. They don’t need to know this shit.”

“… I won’t.” Alex says. His voice is soft. He feels sorry for Ash, and Ash wishes he wouldn’t. Alex shouldn’t waste his time on a cheap fuckin’ whore like him anyways. “I promise I won’t tell nobody if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t.”

“Alright then. I won’t say nothin’. You have my word Ash.”

Ash nods. Somehow, he thinks he can trust Alex on that. 

“Listen, I’m kinda beat, so I’m gonna go to bed. Where’s that blow-up you was talkin’ about?”

“Oh, uhh, yeah… hang on. Lemme grab it outta the closet.”

Alex jumps up off the couch, puttin’ his beer down on the coffee table.

“You wanna sheet to go on it? We got some extra sheets.”

Ash shakes his head.

“Naw, I’m alright. You got a blanket though?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab you a pillow too. Just give me a sec.”

Ash watches as Alex rummages around inside the closet a few minutes. He comes back with his arms full, and Ash hops up to help.

It takes a little while to blow the bed up, and they set it up next to the couch where Alex’ll sleep. 

It’s around midnight by the time they turn in. Alex turns all the lights out ‘cept the stove light, and the room goes dark and quiet.

Ash turns over on his side, his back to Alex. He clutches the thin blanket against his chest.

He wishes he hadn’t told Alex all ‘a that. He don’t know why he did. 

His throat’s all tight, eyes burning again.

He bites hard on his lower lip and reaches up, shovin’ his knuckles against his teeth. 

Shit… _shit_ …

“Hey, Ash…?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, and feels the wet warmth of tears slip free down his face. He thinks about pretendin’ to be asleep, but his breathin’s too heavy to pull it off, he thinks.

“… Yeah?” He calls after a minute. His voice only shakes a little.

“… Thanks, for… for trustin’ me enough to tell me all that. I know it probably wasn’t easy, s-so… I won’t let you down man. I promise.”

Ash shoves his knuckles past his teeth and bites down hard on his hand. Hard enough to hurt. 

There’s a sob lodged in his throat, tryin’ to claw its way out. He won’t let it. 

Everyone Ash’d ever known had let him down, somehow, someway. It was stupid, to trust anybody. It only ever got you hurt. He knew that the hard way. It was probably stupid to trust Alex. But Ash did. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as all them IQ tests said he was. ‘Cause he trusted Alex, even though he didn’t know him at all, really.

“… Okay.” He answers back after a while again.

“Alright. Well… goodnight Ash.”

“Mmm.”

He presses his face into the rubbery surface of the mattress, the palm of his hand against his mouth. A low whimper slips past anyway.

He hopes Alex don’t hear it. 

He hopes uselessly that Alex don’t hear him cry.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all my thanks to all my readers! And as always guys, please heed the tags!

Ash grits his teeth, fingers curling hard into the sheets of the mattress. He keeps his eyes fixed on the headboard in front of him and tries as much as he can to hold still.

His John’s on his back, shovin’ hard into him from behind. It hurts, and Ash can taste the acrid bile at the back of his throat, threatening to come up. His ears are filled with the sound of the man’s heavy breathing and vulgar grunts. 

“Oh… oh God, I… I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come…”

Ash’s teeth grind harder together, and he wishes the fuck just would already.

This was his third John of the night. The third tonight he’s had to let fuck him like this. He’d been averagin’ more than that, the last several nights. Blowies and hand jobs weren’t gonna cut it for makin’ the kinda’ cash he needed, and so it’d been fuckin’ the last week. With this one, he’ll have just about enough to pay Captain Jenkins back for the money he lent him last month, finally.

The man thrusts into him hard a couple more times, and Ash feels him seize up when he finally blows his load, the familiar, disgustin’ warmth of come inside him and between his legs.

The John collapses on top of him, his face pressed against Ash’s neck. He can feel the shitbags chest expand and deflate against his shoulder blades as he sucks air, his skin slick with sweat.

“God, you’re beautiful. So beautiful…” the man mumbles against him.

Ash swallows against the bile in his throat.

“Get offa’ me.” He snaps out. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

The fucker doesn’t respond right away, and Ash is about to tell him again to get the fuck off, when he finally pushes himself up and pulls outta him. He can feel the come dribble outta his ass, and he thinks he’s gonna puke.

God, he couldn’t do this no more tonight.

He pushes himself up quickly, startin’ for the edge of the mattress.

The man’s hand reaches out and takes hold of his arm, and Ash just barely bites back the angry snarl which presses against his teeth.

“You were amazing baby.” He says to Ash, reachin’ out with his other hand, cupping his palm against Ash’s cheek. “God, you’re gorgeous. Won’t you tell me your name, sweetheart?”

Ash pulls away, nausea turning his stomach. He clamps down on the sick shot of fear in his gut.

“No names. I fuckin’ told you already. You got what you want.” He says flatly. He was past any kinda’ flirtin’ or seducin’. He had enough money now. He didn’t need to act no more. “Now you can get out. I gotta take a shower.”

The fuckin’ asshole actually gets a hurt look on his face, like he don’t get what the fuck this is. 

“But baby…”

“I ain’t your fuckin’ baby. Now get out.” Ash tells him. “We’re done.”

Predictable as clockwork, the fuck’s hurt expression turns angry, his hand tightening painfully around Ash’s arm.

“Listen to me, you dumb slut…”

Ash’s had enough. He reaches under the bed’s pillow, pullin’ his pistol and shovin’ it right in the bastard’s face.

 _That_ gets him to let go, his eyes goin’ wide with fear and shock.

“Get. _out_.” Ash cocks the pistol’s hammer. He’ll blow the fuck’s face right off if he tries anything. 

He don’t have to worry ‘bout that though. The man scrambles, practically fallin’ off the bed and gatherin’ up his clothes lightening quick. 

He don’t even bother puttin’ ‘em on all the way ‘for he’s runnin’ for the door, and in a few seconds, he’s gone. 

Soon as he’s outta the room, Ash climbs off the bed and stumbles to the door. He deadbolts it, then presses his ear against the paneling, listening for the shithead outside. He don’t move ‘till he’s sure the bastards gone, and then he turns away.

His legs give out under him, and suddenly he’s on the floor. He wraps his arms round his middle and squeezes his eyes shut.

His stomach was hurtin’ him bad. Had been all day. He’d gotten some kinda’ cold earlier in the week. Some kinda’ stomach flu or somethin’. His throat’d been killin’ him. Every time he swallowed, it was like there was razor blades slippin’ down his esophagus. His head kept poundin’ with rotten headaches, eyes waterin’ and his nose stuffed full ‘a snot. Worst of all, he’d been havin’ fuckin’ awful diarrhea. 

It’d been makin’ everything more miserable then normal even, and Ash didn’t think he could take much more right now. 

He sits there a few minutes, bitin’ hard on his lip as waves of pain surge through his gut. Finally it lets up a little, and he gets to his feet. His legs feel shaky and weak beneath him, but he ignores it and walks back toward the bed. He gets down on his knees and reaches under the mattress, pullin’ out his backpack. 

He’s got his haul from the last week stuffed inside. Standin’ back up, he dumps it all out on the bed and counts it.

He had a hundred and ninety-four bucks and some change. He’d of had more than two hundred, ‘cept he’d had to spend some on some food and new clothes, plus what he’d had to spend rentin’ this shitty room for the last, few nights. Alex was still lettin’ him stay at his place, but it wasn’t like he could bring his John’s over there, and most of the pervs that picked him up weren’t happy fuckin’ him in their cars. Anyway, he knew he was gonna have to move on soon and get outta Alex’s hair. 

He wanted to get what he had to Jenkins tonight though, before somethin’ happened. Out here on the streets, you never knew, so he was gonna take it to him tonight. He’d get the rest to Jenkins next week. 

He shoves the cash back in his bag and starts zippin’ it up when his stomach cramps hard on him, a wave of nausea almost doubling him over. 

He barely reacts fast enough, bolting for the bathroom. He reaches the toilet just before a surge of bile comes burnin’ up his throat and past his teeth, the nasty, acrid sting of it in his nostrils too. 

He retches violently, lids squeezed shut against the awful, helpless convulsion as he empties out his earlier meal into the bowel. 

It seems like it lasts forever, until finally it’s finished, and Ash slumps down on his knees against the dirty tiled floor, laying his head against his forearms. 

He feels shaky and weak, nausea still swirling in his gut, eyes smarting with tears. His head’s poundin’ again with a headache, pressin’ against the backs of his eyes, and he can’t suck no air in through his nose, it’s so clogged up with snot, his throat thick with flem and burnin’ like fire.

God, he feels like shit.

His head’s all in a fog, makin’ it hard to think. He knows he should probably get up. Somewhere he thinks this is probably how he got sick in the first place, rollin’ around on filthy, hotel bathroom floors like this. 

He wishes he had some aspirin or somethin’ for this headache. That shit was too expensive though. Couldn’t afford to waste nothin’ on it.

He had to get the money to Jenkins, he remembers. Had to get to the precinct he was at and get him his money so he could finally stop worryin’ about it. Too much other shit to worry ‘bout out here. Didn’t wanna have to keep worryin’ ‘bout that too.

Only it’s gettin’ harder to think, thoughts gettin’ fuzzier. Harder to hold on to.

Maybe he’ll just sit here a few minutes more and rest. 

Just wanted to close his eyes for a few minutes and rest…

//

Ash wakes with a start and sits up too fast.

His headache comes crashin’ down on him hard, and he slumps back to the floor, a low groan slippin’ past his teeth. The taste of puke is still thick on his tongue, and he swallows reflexively against it. It’s like swalloin’ razor blades, and he squeezes his eyes shut, grittin’ his teeth against the pain.

Fuck… shit…

What fuckin’ time was it?

He lays there a few minutes, tryin’ to remember what happened.

He was in a hotel. He’d been with a John, and then he’d… he’d run in here ‘cause he was gonna puke. And then he’d… he’d ended up here on the floor. He was gonna just rest a few minutes, and then… what the hell was he gonna do?

… Oh.

He’d been countin’ how much of what he owed Captain Jenkins he had. He was gonna bring it to him tonight.

How long ago was that? 

Shit… he was havin’ trouble thinkin’ still, his head poundin’ and stuffed full ‘a cotton. 

There… there was a clock in the room. Wasn’t there? He was pretty sure he’d seen a clock.

He had to get up. 

A wave of dizziness almost puts him down when he tries, his stomach lurching dangerously. He squeezes his eyes shut and waits until it passes, and then he gets to his feet, stumblin’ out of the bathroom.

There is a clock. It reads 10:25. Ash hopes it ain’t 10:25 in the mornin’, or Alex was gonna wonder again what the hell happened to him. The darkened windows tell him it’s still night anyway, and Ash feels relieved. He’d only passed out for a couple hours then.

If he was fast, he could get the money to Jenkins and get back to Alex’s place before midnight.

He had to get dressed first though, he realizes, lookin’ down at himself and seein’ he’s still fuckin’ naked. 

Jesus, someone coulda’ busted into the room while he was passed out and… and they coulda’…

He shakes his head, shovin’ the thoughts away. Wasn’t no point worryin’ ‘bout coulda’s. Nothin’ happened. 

Next time he’d just have to be more careful.

//

Ash fuckin’ hates bein’ ‘round cops.

Buncha’ lyin’, dirty, no good bastards on a power trip. That’s what most of ‘em were. What most of the adults Ash’d ever dealt with were, really. 

He can feel their fuckin’ eyes on him as he makes his way into the precinct. 

He tries to ignore ‘em, keeps his head down and hands at his sides, makin’ straight for Jenkins office.

He don’t make it even half way before he’s stopped.

“Heya’ doll face.”

Ash can feel his teeth grind together, his hands spasming before he forces ‘em still. He keeps his eyes on the floor. He don’t need to look up to know who it is.

Sargent Withers. Big, hairy, stupid fuck. Why’d it have to be him? Of all the cops he could run into tonight, why him?

“Where you think you’re goin’, Ash? It ain’t like you, to come into a police station of your own volition. Usually we gotta drag ya in, kickin’ and screamin’. Ain’t that right?”

Ash don’t say nothin’. It was better never to say nothin’ to no cops. Especially this one.

Withers reaches out, his hand grasping sudden hold of Ash’s chin, forcin’ his face up.

“Ain’t that _right_?” He asks again.

Ash glares up at him, stare fixed. He ain’t gonna give the son of a bitch the satisfaction of lookin’ away. 

Withers smirks at him, lickin’ his lips.

Ash tries to shove down the abrupt panic in his chest.

Last time… last time Withers had’a hold of him, he took him into one of the back rooms and… and he…

Withers thumb pushes against the seam of Ash’s lips, forcin’ ‘em apart, running it along the bottom.

Ash loses it.

“Get the fuck off ‘a me!” He snaps, jerkin’ away. He almost loses his footing he flinches back so hard, and Withers _laughs_.

“Oh, ho, ho… you’re so cute when you’re mad Ash. You know that?”

“Fuck off! I ain’t here to see you!”

The smiles vanishes from Withers face. He takes a step closer, and it’s all Ash can do to not step back.

“You better watch that filthy, whorin’ mouth of yours, Ash. Unless you be wantin’ me to take you back for questioning?”

Ash can feel his stomach drop out from under him, his mouth suddenly, horribly dry.

Shit…

Withers is smilin’ again.

“Just like last time, huh kiddo? Just you and me…”

Withers reaches out again, and Ash flinches back.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” He nearly screams. His voice pitches high and breaks apart, and Withers laughs again.

People are lookin’ at him now.

“What’s the matter Ash?” Withers leans down, ‘till he’s right against Ash’s ear. His voice turns to a whisper. “I thought you liked suckin’ cock? You sure seemed to be enjoyin’ it when you had mine in your mouth.”

Ash’s eyes burn, his body startin’ to shake. 

Damn it. _Damn it_.

“L-leave me alone…” he stammers weakly. “I ain’t here to s-see you.”

“Oh, I think you are, baby doll.”

Withers hand comes up against his neck, and Ash slams his eyes shut, turnin’ his face away.

God… God, not this again. Not again. 

“Withers!” A loud voice snaps out. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Ash can feel Withers pull away, and the relief is so powerful, he almost sobs.

“Yo, Captain! Can you believe this little whore just came trapsin’ in here on his own?” Withers laughs.

Captain Jenkins comes striding over, his face twisted in anger.

“Get the hell outta here Withers!” He snaps. 

“But Capt…”

“Now Withers! And if I see you near this boy again, I’ll have more than your fucking job, you got that?!”

Ash stares, for a moment his mind goin’ blank. 

He don’t think Captain Jenkins knew ‘bout Withers, or… at least, he didn’t before. But the way he was actin’, the hatred in his eyes makes Ash think he does now. 

He don’t know how he feels about that.

Jenkins seemed alright. But he was a cop. You couldn’t trust no cops. And Ash didn’t… didn’t like him knowin’ stuff like that. 

Least Withers is backin’ off now, grumblin’ somethin’ to himself. Ash don’t give a shit what it is.

“Come on Ash. Let’s go to my office. Okay?”

Ash looks up, and Captain Jenkins is gesturin’ for him to follow. That was one thing Ash liked about Jenkins. He never touched him without askin’ first.

Once they reach the office, Jenkins gestures like he wants Ash to go in first. Ash just shakes his head, and Jenkins looks at him funny, but doesn’t say nothin’, steppin’ in first. Ash follows.

“You can close the door if you like.” Jenkins says, movin’ to his desk.

Ash watches him go around it, takin’ a seat. He’s sure he could make it to the door first if Jenkins tried somethin’, even though Ash don’t think he would do that. Not really. But you could never be sure ‘bout people, so…

He closes the door anyway. The rest of the bozos in the place didn’t need to be listenin’ in on their business.

Jenkins is lookin’ at him all close, his mouth pulled into a frown.

“You can sit if you like.” He offers, and Ash shrugs, pullin’ out the steel backed folding chair he had. Fundin’ must be dry, he thinks, if this was all he got. 

Jenkins is still lookin’ at him like he’s tryin’ to figure somethin’ out, and Ash wishes he would stop.

“How’re you doin’ Ash?” He finally asks. “I haven’t seen you in a while. I was starting to get a little worried.”

Ash keeps his eyes fixed on his lap and shrugs.

He couldn’t tell him nothin’ ‘bout Papa Dino, so there wasn’t no point in sayin’ anything, really. 

“I’ve been around.” He mutters. “Listen, I got your money. Or most of it, anyhow. I’ll get you the rest next week.”

Ash reaches into the pockets of his coat, grabbin’ up the cash. The bills are a little wrinkled, and there’s a buncha’ loose change, but whatever, long as he got it to Jenkins, he didn’t think the man would care much. 

He starts layin’ it out on the table.

“It’s about a hundred and ninety-four and like eighty-two cents or whatever. So I’ll get you the rest next week…”

“Ash, you don’t have to give me the money back. Honestly. I don’t mind.”

Ash shakes his head, still pullin’ quarters and shit from his pockets.

“Just take it, man. I don’t wanna be owin’ you no favors.”

“But you won’t. I’m not gonna ask you for anything down the line. You already did us a favor anyway by helping us get that child killer.”

Ash pauses, lookin’ up at Jenkins finally.

There’s somethin’ in his voice. It sounds almost like desperation, and Ash don’t like it. He stares at the Captain, watchin’ him close.

“I want you to take the money.” He finally says. “I’ve been workin’ for it all week, and I want you to take it. Don’t fuck with me. Alright? I don’t wanna owe no favors. You say I won’t, but I don’t know you man. I don’t know you that good.”

He sees Jenkins face twist all up for a second, a look like he’s real uncomfortable and upset. 

“Ash, I…” he starts, then stops, his eyes flittin’ away.

“… What?” Ash pushes. “What the fuck is the problem? Just take the damned money!”

“Ash, I don’t… I don’t want to… I mean… the way you got the money, I don’t want to take it when you had to…”

He trails off, and Ash feels his guts twist up, sick and humiliated, before there’s a sudden, hot spike of rage.

“What? You don’t wanna take it ‘cause it’s from a filthy fuckin’ whore like me?”

Jenkins eyes shoot up to him, wide and shocked.

“Now, I didn’t say that Ash. That’s not what I meant…”

“Yeah, well it sure as fuck sounds like what you meant!” Ash can feel his temper buildin’ outta control, and he can’t stop it. Doesn’t know how. He launches up onto his feet.

“Ash, come on, I only…”

“Hey, it’s fine, pig! I get it. Dirty money and all that. I know what I am. I know I ain’t nothin’ but a nasty, worthless whore! Don’t wanna have to tell nobody where you got the money from. I guess I should feel ashamed or some shit. But this is all I know how to do. This is all I got! I ain’t got nothin’ else, you f-fuckin’ bastard! So you can take your bullshit and shove it back up your ass! You’s one of them clean cops, right? Ain’t that what you like to say? Well, you can choose whatever the fuck you do with your dirty money! I don’t fuckin’ care! But don’t come ‘round askin’ me for no favors, ‘cause I ain’t gonna owe you shit, pig! You got that!? Fuck you!”

There’s tears burnin’ in Ash’s eyes, his face flushed with awful anger and embarrassment, and he turns away before the tears can push past and down his cheeks, headin’ for the door.

He don’t even know why he feels so humiliated. Wasn’t like it mattered what some dumb pig thought of him no how. Ain’t no reason for him to be ashamed in front of some shithead pig.

“Ash, wait! Come on kid, I didn’t mean…”

He don’t listen, pullin’ the door open.

He runs. 

Runs through the station, all the way out onto the street. Keeps runnin’.

His vision blurs, throat tight, somethin’ hard and painful lodged in it. A terrible ache in his chest, smothering and rotten.

Keeps runnin’. 

Ain’t nothin’ else to do but run, run, run…


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, all my thanks to my wonderful readers! I can't tell you guys how much your continued support means to me, and as always, if you have the time, please leave me a comment!
> 
> Just a warning for some less than lovely bodily functions being discussed this chapter guys. But you know, gotta keep it real. Also, of course, all the other tags as always apply. I actually was gonna post one, long chapter for this, but it got so long that I ended up splitting it in two, so they'll be another, long chapter out next week as well.

Ash only makes it a couple blocks ‘for he has to stop, his lungs burnin’ like fire, an awful, stabbing ache in his side.

He leans against the brick of a buildin’, arm held across his stomach, bent over at the waist, and starts to cough, hard and painful, stabbing aches shooting all through his chest with each convulsion. There’s phlegm caught all up in his lungs and he can’t even breathe right. He don't even know why he reacted like he did to Jenkins tellin' him he didn't want the money. Don't know why it even mattered, what some stupid cop thought 'a him and what he did. Stupid bastards hadn't ever given a fuck 'bout him no how.

It was just...

Jenkins had seemed different, if only kinda'. He'd never hurt Ash, anyway. Not really. 'Cept Ash knew it was stupid, thinkin' you could trust any pig any kinda' way. Any grown up at all. You couldn't trust none of 'em, far as he was concerned.

... Was stupid, runnin' away like that and makin' such a jerk outta' himself though. He was still gonna have to bring the rest of what he owed to Jenkins next week. Wasn't no way he was gonna owe that fat ass any more money. 

Stupid how he got all embarrassed, thinkin' 'bout havin' to see him again. He shouldn't give a damn what any pig bastard thought of him at all.

His face twists up, fingers kneadin' at the stich in his side as it grows worse.

He keeps coughin’, sharp, loud gasps slippin’ past his teeth as he tries frantically to suck air. It makes him feel too obvious out here on the streets.

Finally he hacks up some nasty, thick yellow shit outta his throat and spits it onto the ground, the coughin’ fit startin’ to die away.

He keeps leanin’ against the brick, breath heavy and loud in his ears, eyes squeezed shut. He can feel the damp of sweat against his forehead, and he feels too hot, despite how fuckin’ freezin’ cold it is out here. Fuck. His stomach was startin’ to cramp up on him again too, his insides all twisted up. He needed to go to the bathroom bad, ‘cept the hotel room he had was up the other way another five or six blocks. He hadn’t thought when he’d run. Just took off like he was bein’ chased or some shit and hadn’t thought. Fuckin’ stupid. _Stupid_. 

Alex’s place was in another fuckin’ borough. He’d have to get to a station and take a subway car all the way there. There wasn’t no way he could make it in time.

He looks around, eyes scannin’ over whatever business’ there were around. If he can find one with a bathroom maybe…

There’s a restaurant across the street. Some fancy lookin’ joint, and Ash feels his face screw up as another wave of pain rolls through his guts. He couldn’t fuckin’ go in there. They’d throw him out the second they got a look at him. And besides, he didn’t wanna mess up whatever fancy facilities they probably had goin’ on in there. 

His eyes run over the rest of the buildin’s, awful desperation turning his stomach worse. There wasn’t nothin’ he could spot right near him. Nothin’ that he wouldn’t look suspicious as hell goin’ into. 

There was a convenience store down on the corner at the end of this block. If he ran, maybe he could make it. It was worth a shot. 

He tries, but he’s all hobbled up, his guts twistin’ and protestin’ with every slap of his shoes against the pavement. He can’t fuckin’ shit himself, he thinks, almost panicked. Man, he can’t…

Somehow he holds it in all the way to the end of the block, shovin’ through the door into the place. The bell above dings, the fluorescent lights harsh in his eyes. He clenches his teeth, tensin’ up as he stumbles towards the cash register. There’s some bored lookin’ teenager workin’ the stand, reading a magazine. He don’t even look up as Ash come up to him.

“W-where’s your bathroom at?” He stammers out. His voice sounds weak and thready, shakin’ awful. Jesus, this fuckin’ hurt.

The guy don’t look up from his magazine.

“Back corner to the left. Just go down the hall. It’s on the end.” 

Ash barely mumbles out a thanks before he’s movin’ fast as he can.

He barely makes it to the bathroom in time, his hands fumblin’ with the button and fly of his jeans. He gets ‘em and his underwear halfway down his thighs and sits down on the toilet, and less than a second later he’s crapin’ his brains out.

It’s fuckin’ awful.

He presses his hands against his face, teeth bitin’ hard over his bottom lip, his stomach groanin’ and makin’ all kindsa’ weird noises as his bowls empty out.

The pain goes with it, eventually, and Ash slumps down in relief.

He was so fuckin’ messed up. God, he was fuckin’ disgusting. 

He wonders, suddenly, what Papa would think, if he could see him now. What’d Papa Dino think, if he could see him, his perfect little toy? 

It’s almost funny, really. It’s a funny thought. Dino liked to think he was so perfect. Like a beautiful crystal ornament he owned, that he could show off to all his people. He treated Ash like a doll. Like a pretty doll for him to dress up and pose and do with whatever the _fuck_ he wanted.

But pretty, perfect dolls didn’t get stomach flus and end up barely makin’ it to a toilet ‘for they were shittin’ their guts out into it. Dino wouldn’t be too happy, Ash guesses, if he could see how fucked up he was now. He’d get that angry, disgusted look on his face, all screwed up in rage. Papa didn’t like it too much when his things didn’t do like he wanted them to. He’d get real mad, and he’d hit Ash, for the embarrassment. That’s what he’d say. For the embarrassment Ash was causin’ him. He’d hit him as many times as it took, ‘till he felt satisfied, like he’d made sure Ash’d paid for not doin’ like he was supposed to. 

Guesses it’s good then, Papa wasn’t here to see him now. All fucked up and disgusting. 

He don’t know how long he spends sittin’ on that toilet. Not too long, he guesses, since it all came out so fast. He tries to ignore the queasy feelin’ still rollin’ around in his guts as he slaps at the roll of toilet paper. Fuckin’ cheap shit keeps tearin’ every time he tries to get more than a couple squares of it. 

At least there’s hand soap, he thinks, as he squirts a big glob of it into his palm afterwards, waitin’ until the water is near scalding before shoving his hands under the spray and scrubbin’ the hell outta of ‘em. 

There ain’t no paper towels though, so he just wipes ‘em on his pants before leaving 

He glances at a clock on the wall on his way out. It’s only just past 11:25. If he hurries, he can get back to the hotel room, grab his shit and still make it back to Alex’s a little past midnight. The older boy had given him a key to the apartment, which Ash still don’t understand, but he was grateful. He’d try to be quiet as possible so he wouldn’t wake no one. 

He’s barely out the door and on the street again when a cop car pulls up right in front of him.

Ash freezes, steppin’ back, his eyes goin’ wide and heart poundin’ sick in his chest as the drivers side door comes open and he sees Withers step out onto the curb. There’s another cop with him, comin’ outta the passenger’s side. Both of ‘em are in uniform, the lights on their car flashin’, red and blue pourin’ out over the pavement, casting long shadows against the walls of the storefront.

Withers grins at him as he slams the door shut, his palm resting on the hilt of his billy. 

“Hey’a Ash.” He says. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”

There’s a rush of terror which threatens for a moment to black out his vision, his head light and dizzy as Ash again steps back. He feels himself slam against the brick of the building behind him. Trapped. He’s trapped. He’s…

Withers steps closer, the cop with him comin’ around the car, onto the sidewalk.

Ash’s mouth goes dry as dirt.

“Wh-what do ya want?” He stammers. “I didn’t do nothin’…”

His eyes flit over the area. Ain’t nobody around. No one else. He could go back in the store, but what the hell good would that do? They were cops. They could do whatever the fuck they wanted and wasn’t nobody gonna stop ‘em. 

“You sure about that kiddo?” Withers asks. He takes a step closer. “You weren’t in there stealin’ anything, were you? You looked pretty suspicious when you ran in. We’ve been watchin’ you for a while, ya know.”

“I… I didn’t steal nothin’. I was usin’ the bathroom. I didn’t steal nothin’ man.” 

He could run. But if he ran, it’d just give ‘em a reason to bring him in for resistin’ arrest, and then they might call Dino and then…

Withers grin turns crooked and pleased.

“You ain’t exactly the most reliable person though, are you Ash? Natural born liar is what you are. Ain’t it? I don’t think I believe you, kiddo.”

“Fuck you! I didn’t steal nothin’, pig!”

That was a mistake. Ash knows it the second the words leave his mouth. 

“Get against the wall Ash. Arms and legs spread.”

“… I… I didn’t… I didn’t steal nothin’…” he stammers weakly. It’s useless. They didn’t give a fuck whether that was true or not. 

“I ain’t gonna ask again Ash. Up against the wall. Now.”

Ash’s eyes burn, his teeth grinding together in frustration as he turns around, pressin’ his hands against the brick.

“Gibbons, frisk him.” He hears Withers say.

Ash can feel the weight of the bastard at his back as he steps nearer. He kicks Ash’s legs hard apart, and then he’s got his hands all over him, runnin’ up and down his legs, over his ass and crotch and chest. 

Ash’d left his piece back at the hotel room, ‘cause it was just askin’ for trouble, walkin’ into a cop station with an unregistered gun. He’s thankful now that he did. They found that on him, they’d lift it and haul him in for sure. 

“Well, lookie here…” Gibbons voice rings out, and then he’s grabbin’ hold of Ash by the shoulder, spinnin’ him around and shovin’ him back hard against the wall. He’s holdin’ a candy bar in front of his face, wavin’ it around like some uncovered treasure.

Ash’s eyes go wide, his temper spikin’ hot in his chest. They were really gonna pull this shit? This stupid fuckin’ shit!

“I didn’t steal that! That ain’t mine!”

“But it was in your pocket Ash. I saw Gibbons pull it out just now.” Withers smiles at him. 

“You fuckin’ planted it, you bastards! I didn’t steal nothin’ and you fuckin’ know it!”

“We don’t know shit, you little punk!” Gibbons slams him hard against the wall again, his forearm against Ash’s throat. “You stole the fuckin’ candy bar. Just admit it, and maybe we’ll go easy on ya, huh?”

“Go fuck yourself!” Ash spits, his hands tryin’ uselessly to pull the cops arm from his throat. 

“Ya know Ash, you _embarrassed_ me back at the station there. In front of all my friends.” Withers says. “I can’t let you get away with that. Not without payin’ for it in some way." 

“So, what, you gonna kill me or somethin’?”

Ash’d be proud of how he keeps his voice steady, ‘cept Withers bursts out laughin’ like he said the funniest shit ever, Gibbons snortin’ behind him like he thinks so too.

It makes Ash’s stomach clench with fear, flippin’ and sinkin’ with dread. He curls his fingers till his nails dig into his palms and tries to focus on the pain. 

“Why would we wanna kill you, Ash? You’re too much fun to fuck with, ain’t ya?”

“Then what? You gonna rape me?” He can’t quite keep the waver outta his voice this time and he hates himself for it. His brain works desperately, tryin’ to think of some way outta this. But he can’t think ‘a nothin’. He was fuckin’ sloppy and stupid, and he got himself caught, and now he couldn’t think ‘a no way out, and they were gonna fuckin’ rape him. 

His throat goes dry at the black shine in Withers stare. 

“Little whore like you would like that, wouldn’t ya? Why don’t you tell us how much you’d like to have our big cocks up that tight little ass of yours, huh?”

Ash don’t say nothin’, keepin’ his eyes fixed on Withers. He fights to keep his face blank. 

“Or maybe you’d rather have my cock down your throat. Just like last time, huh Ash? You wanna swallow my cum again?”

Ash’s fingers curl harder, sharp pain in his palms. Focus on that. He had to focus on that.

“You ever been fucked by two guys at once, kiddo?” 

Ash almost wants to laugh. Fuckin’ stupid bastards. Like they were threatenin’ somethin’ new. They didn’t know shit.

‘Cept he feels sick, memories breaking in his brain. Four and five of ‘em at once, and Ash’d had to… he’d had to…

“What am I talkin’ about? Of course you have, little slut like you. I’d like to fuck you ‘till that hole of yours bleeds raw, but we just ain’t got the time tonight, much as I’m sure you want it Ash, we ain’t really got time. Your friend Jenkins is expectin’ us back at the precinct by a certain time, and we wouldn’t want him gettin’ suspicious, now would we?”

Ash can feel his temper again, buildin’ in his chest, even as awful relief floods through him.

“Then what the fuck do you pigs want!?” He snaps before he can think better of it.

The sick grin spreadin’ over both cops faces is somethin’ Ash’s seen before. Too many times. The look all these freaks got, when the anticipation of what they was gonna do almost got ‘em off more than doin’ the thing itself. 

Ash’s anger turns to dust, replaced by sudden, awful dread. This was some kinda’ fucked up set up. They weren’t plannin’ on bringing him to no cop station. He knew enough to know that. 

The fear gets him, and he don’t think.

He leans his face down, sinkin’ his teeth into Gibbons forearm and bitin’ as hard as he can.

Gibbon’s howls in pain, stumblin’ back, and Ash takes off fast as he can down the street.

He can’t let ‘em get him, he thinks, his mind white with panic. They were gonna do somethin’ to him, he just knows it. Somethin’ bad. He can’t…

His thoughts scatter to dust, and his whole body is suddenly bein’ crushed. It’s a kinda’ pain he ain’t never felt before. Like what it feels like when you shock yourself, only a thousand times worse.

He feels his legs lock up underneath him, knees goin’ stiff as wood, and suddenly he’s on the ground and he can’t move. He feels his body convulse hard, over and over, but it won’t do nothin’ he wants it to, eyes are wide and starin’, filled with the street, but he can’t blink even. Can’t close his eyes. Can’t move, can’t breathe. Christ… oh… oh God… God… what the hell had happened? What was wrong with him? 

He can hear Withers and Gibbons comin’ up from behind, their footfalls heavy on the ground. Hears the sound of plastic against plastic as they pull their billy’s free. 

His heart’s poundin’ loud in his ears, and he can’t move. He can’t fuckin’ move! 

“Resisting arrest. That’s a serious crime, Ash.” He hears Gibbons say. “Lot more serious than stealing some candy bar. Shoulda’ just let us bring you in for that, kiddo. But now you’ve gone ahead and given us all the excuse we needed…”

“You weren’t kiddin’ about this little fucker bein’ tough man. Look, he’s still awake. How many grown men you hit with that thing and they’re out like a fuckin’ light?.”

“Yeah, well, I told ya the little fucker’s like a demon or some shit. But it ain’t gonna help him now, is it?” 

His vision catches sight of one of their shoes, stepped right by him. Black, shiny pleather, and the lights from the siren strobing red and blue reflected back, soaking the pavement red and blue.

“D-don’t…”

It’s all he can get out, voice weak and strained against his seized up lungs, and then there’s an explosion of pain through his back, ratcheting up into the base of his skull, the sick sound of solid plastic hitting flesh. 

It’s like his whole body’s breaking.

Ash can hear his own voice rip from his lungs, a harsh, desperate gasp, and the first burst of pain still sears when it comes again, against his side, sharp agony, like someone’s stuck a knife right between his ribs, an audible crack fillin’ his ears. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ash knows they’re beatin’ him with their clubs. But the pain’s too much, and he can’t think past it, and the blows keep comin’, one on top of another, ‘till he can’t do nothin’ but lay there, and he feels wet warmth down his face. He’s crying. Somewhere he knows it, but it’s helpless for him. Can’t stop it. Doesn’t even feel like it’s happenin’ to him at all. 

There’s a loud thwack in his ear then, and his vision whites out, his teeth rattlin’ inside his skull and his whole face feels like it’s gone numb. And then he feels his eyes roll back up in his head, black spillin’ in at the edges, and there ain’t nothin’ else after that. 

Ain’t nothin’ else.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter you guys! And a long one too! I couldn't leave you hanging after that cliffhanger, haha. Please leave a comment if you get the chance!

Everything comes rushin’ back to him with a horrible start, freezing cold sinkin’ into his bones like razor sharp hooks, tearing him back from unconsciousness. 

He lays there, shocked by the pain of it, and the world swims around him for what seems forever, his thoughts forming and pulling apart before he can get any kinda’ hold on ‘em, until suddenly it stops, and the pain comes bearing down what seems like a million times worse. 

He tries taking a breath, and there’s fire through his side, in his chest. When he tries sittin’ up, his vision goes black, and he’s back on the ground again, a low groan which he only realizes after a moment is comin’ from him. Somethin’ warm and wet dribbles outta his mouth, and when he wipes the back of his hand against it, it comes away covered in blood.

Shit…

What happened? 

His brain won’t work right, memories fragmented and flitting away each time he tries to grasp on.

He lays there, breaths wheezin' in his ears. He can’t tell what’s worse, the pain or the cold. 

What time was it?

It’s gotta be late, he thinks, when he finally manages to get up on his knees. Glancin’ around and there ain’t nobody out here on the street. The temperature’s dropped what feels like ten or fifteen degrees, and he realizes suddenly he’s shakin’ and he can’t stop it, his teeth chatterin’ together inside his skull like some kinda’ fucked up windup toy.

It feels like someone’s put a knife between his ribs each time he sucks a breath, and he remembers suddenly.

Remembers comin’ outta that convenience store and the cops showin’. Withers and his sidekick. Remembers tryin’ to run, ‘cause they was gonna do somethin’ bad to him, and then they’d… they’d hit him with somethin’. He realizes all at once it musta’ been a taser, the way his body’d gone all stiff and wouldn’t do nothin’ he wanted, the way he’d been on the ground and shakin’ all over and he couldn’t even close his eyes or nothin’. And then they’d… they’d took out their billy’s and they’d started beatin’ him. 

That’s what’d happened.

‘Cept he wasn’t in front of that convenience store no more. They’d dragged him somewhere else and dumped him. He don’t remember none of that. Musta’ gotten knocked out at some point, he thinks.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ, he was cold.

His vision swims when he tries focusin’, lookin’ down at his hands. They’re all scraped up, palms and knuckles, and when his vision clears finally, he can see the tips of his fingers are startin’ to turn blue.

That wasn’t good.

He musta’ been layin’ out here for hours in the cold. It felt like below zero, but that was probably ‘cause his body temp was so low. His fingers turnin’ blue probably meant he was hypothermic. Really not good.

He tries again to get to his feet, the pain in his ribs makin’ him gasp hard and sharp, and he falls against a brick wall. He’s in an alleyway, he realizes. Those fuckin’ pigs musta’ dumped him here so nobody’d see him layin’ out on the street all beat to hell.

He needed… he needed to get somewhere. He needed to get some place safe.

Alex… he could try gettin’ back to Alex’s place. Only he’d left his bag and gun back at that hotel, and he’d only rented the room out ‘till the mornin’. If he didn’t get back there first, they were gonna take his shit and he wouldn’t be able to get it back. Not once they found his pistol. Shit, shit, shit…

He wraps an arm around his torso.

His ribs are broken, he can tell.

He tries takin’ a step and his insides lurch, the pain stealin’ his breath. And then he’s throwin’ up, down on his hands and knees again and retching onto the pavement. 

Oh, God…

He had to get outta the cold. He had to get some place warm, at least.

His eyes burn, stinging. For a moment, he thinks about just layin’ down and lettin’ himself freeze to death. Wouldn’t be so bad, would it? He’d probably just slip into a coma and die quiet. Nobody’d know. Nobody’d care…

He sits there on his hands and knees, breath wheezin’ and rattlin’ in his lungs. He blinks, and the wet warmth of tears slide down his cheeks.

He wishes Griff was here. 

He wishes Griff would be here, and hold his hand, and tell him… tell him it was alright. He wanted his big brother to tell him it was alright.

But he wasn’t here, and he couldn’t tell Ash nothin’ anymore, and sittin’ here feelin’ sorry for himself wasn’t gonna get him nowhere, he thinks. He grits his teeth, wipin’ his hand against his eyes and pushin’ himself back up to his feet.

He needed to get the hell outta here.

//

It takes him almost an hour to figure out where it was those fuckin’ bastards dumped him and get back to the hotel. He’d had to keep stoppin’, the pain too much. Like a total wimp, about halfway there it became so bad he’d collapsed against the side of a buildin’ and just started cryin’. 

But finally he’d made it, limpin’ back up to his room and grabbin’ his stuff, relieved that it was still there.

He was ridin’ the subway now, back to the Bronx, so he could get back to Alex’s place. It was his only option. He was too fucked up to make it anywhere else. He hopes Alex won’t be mad at him for comin’ back so late. He’d seen on a clock in the hotel that it was just past four in the mornin’. He’d been passed out on the street for more than four hours, then.

Once he’s off the subway and outta’ the station, it’s hell gettin’ to Alex’s apartment building. He’d gotten stiff, his joints cold durin’ the train ride, and now the pain was somehow even worse, his vision swimmin’ and nausea turnin’ his guts with each step. He’s breathin’ hard and heavy, the sound of if deafening in his own ears.

He don’t know how long it takes him to get to Alex’s place, but by the time he does, he can hardly move anymore, and he collapses down onto the front steps of the tenement, gasping for breath. He can’t stop shakin’, his hands trembling uncontrollably. His fingers are stiff and unresponsive when he tries reachin’ for the handle on the front entrance, and he’s gotta use his other hand to curl his fingers ‘round the handle to depress the latch.

The climb up to the second floor is torture.

Halfway down the hallway, his legs finally give out, and for a few minutes he just lays there. He knows it’s a bad idea. Knows if he passes out, he might even die, if he really was hypothermic. It’s just so hard to move.

It’d be fucked up though, if he died out here, and then Alex, or even worse, his little sister came outta their apartment in a few hours to find his stiff, dead corpse layin’ there.

So he tries. He’s gotta crawl the rest of the way, and when he reaches the door finally, he don’t got the strength to even go through his bag and find the key Alex’d given him.

He falls against the door and tries to knock. It’s fuckin’ pathetic. He don’t think nobody’d hear it. So he tries again, and again.

And after that, he can’t try no more. His eyes slip closed, his head thunkin’ against the wood. 

He drifts…

“Ash? Ash!?”

There’s someone callin’ his name, but he can’t really make out who it is. Can’t even really remember where he is, for a minute. Maybe he’s dreamin’ again…

“Ash, oh my God, what the hell happened?!” 

‘Cept there’s hands on him, liftin’ him up by the shoulders, and those feel real. So does the pain which lances through his ribs. A low whine fills his ears, and he thinks maybe it’s comin’ from him.

“Okay… okay, shit… okay… just… just hold on a second. Ash, Ash can you hear me?”

His eyes come open, and everything’s just a smudge of bled through color for a minute. And then all of a sudden Alex is there, his face right in front of him. 

He looks scared to death.

“… Alex.” He says, and it don’t even sound like him. His voice is raw and cracked and slurred and he can’t make it go no louder than a whisper. His throat burns when he tries to talk. 

“Yeah, yeah man, I’m right here. I’m here. Listen, you’re… Jesus man, you’re freezin’ cold. I gotta get you inside, b-but I tried to lift you and you acted like it really hurt. D-did someone beat you up or somethin’? Your face is all bruised up and shit.”

“… My ribs… g-got busted, I think.” Ash answers. He don’t know if Alex can even hear him. He can barely hear himself. 

“O… okay. Okay, shit. Can you walk? I don’t wanna hurt you, b-but if you can’t walk, I gotta get you inside.”

Ash don’t think he can walk no more. He can’t get his legs to move. Not hardly. He doubts they’d hold his weight. 

He tries shakin’ his head. It hurts too much to talk.

“Okay. Okay. Ash, I’m gonna pick you up. I’ll try to be careful, but I’m sorry if it hurts. Okay?”

“… kay.” 

Alex start to lift him and the pain nearly makes Ash pass out again right there. His vision swims and goes black, his stomach goin’ sick. He thinks for a second he might puke. He can’t puke while Alex is holdin’ him. He swallows back against it, and it burns like fire.

God, he can’t…

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Ash…”

Ash wonders what he did, to make Alex start apologizin’, and realizes a second later he’s got his face pressed hard against the older boy’s shoulder and there’s a thin whine comin’ outta his throat. Somethin’ like shame burns through him at his own weakness. 

Alex don’t say nothin’ else, and Ash feels grateful.

He hears the apartment door bein’ kicked shut. Jolts of ripping pain shoot through him with each step Alex takes, and Ash bites down hard on his lip to keep from makin’ any sound.

There’s a soft click, and bright light seeps through where Ash’s still got his face buried. It takes him a moment to realize Alex’s got him in the bathroom.

He’s gonna be sick.

“I’m gonna set you down here on the floor, o-okay?”

Ash can’t answer, and Alex does like he said he was anyway.

The cold of the tile seeps through his jacket when his back touches the floor, and Ash can’t keep the sharp gasp from tearin’ outta his throat.

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?!”

Ash turns his face aside, his eyes clamped hard shut. The light is awful.

“Jesus man, what happened to you? You’re all beat to shit…”

“… C-cops… beat me up…” he manages. He don’t wanna explain any more than that. Alex don’t need to know anyway. 

“Fuckin’ pigs got you?! Those fuckin’ bastards!”

Ash remembers his bag, then, and a shot of panic goes through him. His gun was in there. He… he needed his gun. The panic makes him forget himself, and he starts to try to sit up. He don’t get far before the pain puts him back down, his eyes squeezin’ shut again. He can feel the warmth of tears as they squeeze past the corners, slidin’ slow down his temples. 

“Woah, Ash, I… I don’t think you should try gettin’ up yet, you…”

“M-my backpack, I… is it here? I h-had it with me out in th-the hall.”

“Your… oh… Oh! Yeah, I… I left it out there. I’ll go get it! Be right back!”

Alex hops up and is out the door. Ash’s face contorts in agony as he takes the chance to push himself up to sitting. It takes everythin’ he’s got not to cry out as he just manages it, and he scoots back ‘till his back hits the wall behind him, between the toilet and the sink. He’s breathin’ heavy, sweat thick on his forehead. He stinks, the smell of body odor and puke all mixed together. Fuck, he was so gross. He don’t know why Alex was lettin’ him stay here at all. Why he was helpin’ him. 

He lifts a trembling hand, wipin’ clumsily at his eyes and nose, ‘fore he wraps his arms around his middle, huggin’ himself tight. It hurts like a motherfucker, but he’s so fuckin’ cold too. 

Alex comes back a minute later, holdin’ his bag, and Ash feels his shoulders slump in relief. 

“Here ya go man. Want me to set it down on the counter here?”

“Y-yeah.” Ash answers. “Th… thanks. Thanks.”

Alex smiles at him, and Ash looks away. 

He don’t know why Alex even likes him.

Alex is in front of him again a second later, down on his knees and lookin’ him over.

“You think your ribs are busted?” He asks.

Ash nods.

“F-fuckers beat me up with their billy’s. I guess I musta’ blacked out or somethin’. One of ‘em hit me in the head I guess.”

“Yeah, you… you got a pretty nasty lookin’ bruise along your temple here.” Alex starts to reach out like he’s gonna touch it, and Ash doesn’t mean to, but he flinches back so hard he hits the back ‘a his head against the wall.

Alex pulls his hand back quick, a look of panic crossin’ over his features.

“Shit, I’m sorry!”

“No, it… it ain’t your fault. I’m sorry. I… I just don’t like to be touched much…” Ash’s voice trails off, embarrassed. He was such a fuckin’ freak. 

“Yeah...” Alex mutters. He sounds like he don’t know what to say and Ash feels even more humiliated. 

There’s a beat of awkward silence, and then Alex hisses.

“Fuck man, your fingers! Is that frostbite?!”

Ash’s gaze drifts down to his hands, curled stiffly around his arms.

Oh… yeah. He forgot about that.

“How the hell’d that happen?”

Ash shakes his head.

“I… they dumped me in some alley after they knocked me out, I guess. I… I was layin’ out there for a few hours.”

“But it’s like two degrees out there or somethin’! Fuckin’ monsters! Hey, y-you’re shakin’ like a leaf! Fuck, are you… Hyperactive or… what’s that word? I don’t know.”

Ash almost smiles, ‘cept he feels too much like shit.

“Hypothermic. Y-yeah, I… I think I might be. I c-can’t get warm.” His voice is shakin’ almost as hard as his body.

“Wh-what do we do?!” Alex starts. He sounds on the verge of panicking. “I… I don’t know how to fix that kinda’ shit. Sh-should I bring you to a hospital or somethin’?”

Ash shakes his head. He couldn’t go to no hospital. They’d end up callin’ Dino if he did, and then he’d be in even more trouble.

God, he really felt like he was gonna puke.

“Y-you got some bl-blankets? I… I think you’re supposed to use a lotta’ blankets and warm washcloths and sh-shit.”

Alex nods, again jumpin’ to his feet. 

“Yeah, I… I’ll go get the stuff. Just hold on a sec!” 

Ash watches him run outta the bathroom again.

He should probably get outta’ his clothes too. They weren’t wet or nothin’, ‘cept for his sweat havin’ soaked through. But that was somethin’ you were supposed to do. Only… he don’t really wanna get undressed in front of Alex. Or anybody.

He also needed to get his fingers into some warm water, he guesses. It wasn’t frostbite, like Alex thought, but it’d get there if he didn’t get some circulation flowin’ back in ‘em. Shit, he shoulda’ asked Alex to grab a bowl or somethin’ that he could fill with warm water.

Maybe… maybe he could just get it. He’d gotten pretty familiar with where everythin’ was in the apartment the last, few days, and if he was quiet, he didn’t think he’d wake anyone else up. He just had to get up first.

He realizes his mistake almost immediately. The second he tries to stand, his stomach lurches dangerously, and a second later, he can feel the bile rushin’ up his throat. He don’t even have time to make it to the toilet. He just pukes all over the floor.

For a long moment, he can only stare at it, mortified. It’s mostly just clear liquid, ‘cause he ain’t had nothin’ to eat in hours. But he can smell it, and it makes his stomach turn again. Oh, God… He’s gonna… 

He throws up a second time, just as Alex is comin’ back. 

There’s a desperate, crushing hopelessness which falls over Ash then, and he almost bursts into tears, covering his face with his hands. What the fuck was wrong with him? God, he was… he was such a fucked up, God damned freak. Alex must hate him. He should hate him. Jesus Christ…

“Oh… shit…” he hears the older boy say.

“I’m sorry.” Ash stammers. “I’m sorry, I was… I didn’t mean… I… I’ve been sick…”

“It’s okay…”

“I’ll clean it up. I’ll… lemme j-just… I’ll clean it… just…”

“It’s alright Ash. Hey man, don’t worry about it. Here, I brought the blankets like you asked. I got a bunch of ‘em, ‘cause I didn’t know how many you want, and I also got you a fresh set ‘a clothes. I think all my stuff’s probably too big for you, but Sam’ll kill me if I try takin’ her stuff, so… I hope it’s alright…” 

Alex stands there awkwardly then, goin’ quiet, holdin’ all the stuff in his arms. He stares back at Ash like he don’t know what else to say.

Ash don’t understand why Alex is bein’ so cool with it. With any of it. He just fucked his whole bathroom up with his nasty shit, after wakin’ him up at five in the fuckin’ mornin’. He don’t know why Alex ain’t tellin’ him to get the fuck outta his apartment. 

Ash looks at the floor, and he can’t stop shakin’.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles.

“It’s cool man, don’t sweat it!” Alex repeats. “Look, I’ll get this cleaned up, but like… maybe we should take care of you first? If your ribs are busted, I can take care of it. Bones busted his ribs once tryin’ to do tricks on a skateboard we found in the trash. Fuckin’ dummy. I got some aspirin and shit, but if it hurts real bad, I got some weed too. I don’t know if you’re into that though. We should also probably get some ice on it and all. Can… can I see where you got hit?”

Ash almost tells him fuck no, but he manages to swallow the words before they can leave his tongue. Alex didn’t have to do all this for him, but he was. Ash didn’t deserve to be treated so nice. The least he could do was show a little gratitude. And it wasn’t like Alex was wrong. He needed to get outta these clothes and get warmed up anyway.

“Y-yeah, just… Can… can you get me a bowl with warm water in it too? F-for my hands?”

“Oh, yeah, hang on a sec.” 

And again Alex is gone.

Ash bites hard on his lip. He feels so fuckin’ humiliated. He can’t imagine what the older boy must really think. Every time they see each other, Ash is more fucked up than the last. 

But wasn’t no point in worryin’ about it now. Alex’d seen him at just about his lowest at this point, and he hadn’t told Ash to get lost, so he wasn’t gonna fuck it up by dwellin’ on it. If Alex changed his mind, alright, he’d just move on and try to figure out what to do next. For now, he had a warm, dry place to stay.

Wasn’t no point bein’ embarrassed in front of Alex either. That kinda’ stupid shit would just get him dead.

So he gets to peelin’ his jacket and shirt off. The pain makes bright bursts pop behind his eyes, a wave of dizziness almost puttin’ him on the floor. He bites hard enough on his lip to make it bleed, a weak whimper still slippin’ past.

He blinks down at himself. 

His body looks scrawny and weak. He ain’t got no muscle at all. A layer of fat squeezes over the waistband of his jeans, and he thinks about how much Papa Dino hates that. How he’s always grabbin’ at it, pinchin’ it hard and tellin’ Ash how fat he is. He measures it and everything. If it’s an inch, he won’t let Ash eat nothin’ for days and days…

His pasty white skin makes the swath of black and blue bruising over his right side stand out all the more. It stretches all the way up from just below the ribs, up into his armpit. There’s all kindsa’ other bruises and marks all over his chest and stomach and he guesses probably his back too, from the beatin’ those pigs laid on him and from other stuff also. 

Alex comes back, holdin’ a bowl of water in one hand, and a glass in the other. He’s got what looks like an ice pack squeezed between his elbow and ribs, and a bottle of pain killers. 

“Damn…” he hisses when his eyes land on Ash, seein’ how busted up he is. “That’s nasty.”

Ash forces down the irrational urge he suddenly has to cover himself back up. Wasn’t no point. He knows he looks like shit. Don’t matter.

Alex comes over, before kneelin’ down at Ash’s side, settin’ all the stuff he’d brought on the floor next to them. 

“I brought some aspirin for you.” He starts, and Ash watches as Alex struggles to pop the cap on the bottle of pain killers before finally gettin’ it open, pourin’ a couple pills out into his palm. He holds it and the cup of water out to Ash.

“Th-thanks…” Ash stutters. His hands shake as he takes the pills and glass, but Alex don’t try to help him or nothin’, which Ash is grateful for. This was already pathetic enough. 

“Oh, and here’s the water for your hands. I think I made it too hot or somethin’, but it should cool down in a few minutes.” 

“… Thanks Alex.” Ash says again. He means it. He don’t even know how to tell the older boy how much he means it. 

“No problem! Here…”

Alex stands, grabbin’ up the pile of blankets he’d dropped earlier. 

“We should get these on you, huh? D-do you wanna move back to the livin’ room? It’s kinda’ cold on the floor here, and, well… I’m guessin’ you don’t really wanna be sittin’ near your puke and all…”

Ash feels his face burn with embarrassment, tryin’ to keep it from his features. Alex was right. The tile of the floor was seepin’ up into his bones, makin’ him even colder. And the smell of his own sick was makin’ his stomach turn.

“… Okay.” He feels like such a bastard, doin’ this to Alex. Makin’ him do all this shit for him, when the kid didn’t owe him nothin’. 

“Okay, come on, I’ll help ya up. You want me to just carry you again? You don’t weigh nothin’.” Alex grins. 

Ash don’t want to be carried again. So he shakes his head. It’s probably stupid, tryin’ to walk, but he don’t wanna make this any more fucked up than it already was.

“Alright, I’ll put my arms around you. Just lean on me, okay?”

Ash nods.

Alex is careful as he helps Ash to his feet, but it’s still like a lance through his ribs, Ash’s breath catchin’ in his throat. He slams his lids shut, his head spinnin’. He feels his knees wobble, his legs goin’ out from under him.

Alex pulls him against his side, his arms around his shoulders and waist, keepin’ him up.

“I got ya. Hey, it’s okay. Just lean against me. Yeah, like that…”

Ash sags against Alex’s side, his hands fisting into the older boy’s shirt.

It’s pathetic, but everythin’ hurts too much and he feels too sick to care much about wounded pride now. He just wants this to stop. 

“Alright. That’s it. We’ll just go real slow, cool?”

Again, Ash nods. 

It takes what seems forever just to make it from the bathroom to the couch, out in the livin’ room, and by the time they do, Ash’s head is turnin’ with the pain, his ribs on fire and stomach all twisted up. Alex helps him down onto the cushions, and Ash collapses back, his arms foldin’ around his middle, tryin’ to get warmer. 

The older boy runs back to the bathroom and is back again in a few seconds with the blankets. 

“Here, I’m gonna put these ‘round your shoulders, ‘kay?”

Ash can only nod again, his arms squeezin’ tighter around himself as Alex comes ‘round the back of the couch, drappin’ the blankets around him. 

“Here ya go…” he comes back to face Ash, pullin’ the blankets tight.

Ash grabs onto ‘em, holdin’ ‘em closed.

“Th-thank you.” He manages. His voice is shakin’. He’s so cold. 

Alex just nods.

“I’ll go get the other stuff.”

Ash watches him go, his lids feelin’ heavy. He was exhausted, everythin’ startin’ to catch up to him finally. 

He should be worried, he thinks dimly, ‘bout Alex doin’ all this. He don’t understand why the older boy is helpin’ him so much. He never asked for nothin’, but that ain’t the way the world worked. People always wanted somethin’. He should be worried, but he can’t find the strength to be. Not now. 

… He wants to go to sleep. Wishes he could sleep.

Alex is back again, carryin’ the bowl of warm water. He places it down on the coffee table, and he’s sayin’ somthin’ to Ash.

“… cooled off by now. So if you wanna… use it…”

Ash blinks. He musta’ been spacin’ out again. 

“… thanks.” He mutters. His voice sounds far away to his own ears.

“H-here..”

And someone’s grabbin’ his hands, and then there’s a sensation almost like burnin’ all through his fingers, but it feels good, doesn’t hurt. 

It takes Ash too long to realize Alex has put his hands in the bowl of water. 

“… Listen man, you got a pretty nasty cut on your temple there too, s-so I grabbed some Band-Aids and antiseptic. I’ll take care of it for you, and if… if you wanna just sleep, that’s cool. You seem pretty outta’ it. So you can just rest and I’ll watch out for you. Okay?”

Ash blinks up at Alex, but it feels like he can barely keep his eyes open anymore. They burn and hurt. He blinks again and somethin’ warm washes down his cheeks.

“… Okay. ‘m sorry…”

“You don’t gotta keep apologizin’ man. It’s alright.”

There’s somethin’ in Alex’s voice. Somethin’ strained and tight. But Ash don’t really know what it is.

… His thoughts are slippin’ away from him now. Can’t think so good… now…

Alex smiles at him, and it looks like how his voice sounds.

“It’s okay.” Ash thinks he says, but he don’t really know.

His eyes slip closed, and everything fades away.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, all my thanks to everyone! Please excuse the math jargon that happens in this chapter!

Ash spends the next, several days mostly asleep. His cold gets even worse, his busted ribs makin’ breathin’ horrible. All of it leaves him laid out without any kinda’ strength to do nothin’ ‘cept havin’ to keep runnin’ to the bathroom. 

He’s never been more grateful to have a place to stay than he is now. Even though he can’t stop feelin’ like he’s intrudin’ on Alex and his family’s lives, and he’s worried about how he’s supposed to ever pay the older boy back for his kindness. Alex keeps tellin’ him it’s no big deal, but for Ash, he knows it’s the difference between livin’ and dyin’. He don’t know if he could make it out there on the street now, with winter comin’ fast, and him sick as he is.

Alex is gone most of the day, and the last couple nights, he ain’t come back at all. 

Samantha tells him Alex is stayin’ with Kong and Bones, and Ash figures that means he’s out doin’ drug runs for Dino. He don’t say that or nothin’, but he figures.

It makes him nervous, ‘cause if Alex and the others were gettin’ jobs, then Marvin was probably out lookin’ for him too. He knows Alex won’t rat him out, and there’s one more thing Ash don’t know how he’s ever gonna pay him back for. 

He’s sittin’ on the couch, the TV runnin’ in the background. Ash stares at it, not really payin’ attention. He thinks his flu is finally startin’ to break, at least. His stomach ain’t hurtin’ him as much anymore, and his sore throat is finally gone. He still feels outta’ it though, his brain in a fog. Everythin’ keeps passin’ over him in a weird, detached way. 

It’s just past 5:30. Alex’s mom works nights at a diner, so she ain’t here. Samantha is in her room.

She comes out at some point. Ash starts awake when she jumps onto the couch. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep, and his heart slams too hard in his chest before he realizes it’s just her. 

She’s starin’ at him again, and Ash looks away, keepin’ his eyes fixed on the TV screen. He don’t know why she wants to hang around him so much. Since he been stayin’ here, she hangs around him all the time, tryin’ to talk to him and shit. Ash don’t offer much, ‘cause he don’t know what to say to her. 

Even though Alex was a street punk, and Ash figured it was mostly the money Alex was makin’ from workin’ for Dino that was payin’ for a lot of their stuff, their lives weren’t really nothin’ like his. They were a family, they had a regular home. They had each other. Samantha, far as Ash could tell, was pretty sheltered and lived a pretty regular life, went to school every day, did her homework, ate dinner with her brother and mom every night. She liked to talk on the phone with her friends from school. Their dad had left ‘em, like so many of these kindsa’ families, and they struggled in that way. That musta’ been how Alex fell into workin’ for Dino, no doubt. But otherwise, they lived a decent, normal type life. 

Ash don’t really have nothin’ to say to Samantha. He can’t tell her what he really is. He told Alex ‘cause he was a street punk, like him, so he knew what it was like out there. Plus Ash owed it to him to be honest, since he was lettin’ him stay in his home and around his family and all. But Samantha didn’t need to be hearin’ ‘bout that kinda’ shit. 

She was a nice girl. She didn’t need to be hearin’ none of that.

She keeps lookin’ at him though, and Ash squirms around, tryin’ to ignore her ‘till he can’t no more.

“What’re ya lookin’ at me for, huh?” He finally asks. 

He sees Samantha start outta the corner of his eye, like she didn’t realize what she’d been doin’. 

“Oh! S-sorry…” 

She trails off, lookin’ away finally. Ash looks back at her, seein’ her face flushed red.

“… You think I’m good lookin’ or somethin’?” 

Her face goes even more red, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

“… Y-yeah.” She admits.

Ash turns away from her, his arms comin’ around himself. 

“Yeah, well… don’t be so impressed with it. It don’t mean nothin’. It don’t make me special. Ain’t there boys at your school who’re nice lookin’?”

He can see Alex’s sister lookin’ back at him outta the corner of his eye.

“… Uh, uh. Not like you. I… I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.” She says. Her voice is shy and full of awe. “Y-you’re beautiful.”

Somethin’ ugly and awful uncurls in the pit of Ash’s stomach, and he grinds his teeth together, his fingers curlin’ hard into the flesh of his arms to keep himself from snappin’ at her. 

She didn’t mean nothin’ by it, he has to remind himself. She didn’t mean nothin’.

He keeps his mouth closed, shrugging in response. He hopes she’ll just drop it.

“… Sorry.” He hears her mumble. “I guess I shouldn’t of said that. Alex told me you don’t really like to talk about it.”

Ash closes his eyes, guilt chokin’ his throat. He didn’t want Alex to have to worry about tellin’ people to be careful around him. Didn’t want Samantha to start apologizin’, when she didn’t do nothin’ anyway.

He shakes his head.

“Forget it. It’s okay.” He forces himself to say. His voice sounds strained even to his own ears. 

He glances back at her, and sees she’s lookin’ away again. Her hands keep fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. He feels bad. He didn’t mean to embarrass her or nothin’. He looks at her a few seconds longer, and then his gaze falls to her lap. He notices what looks like some kinda’ big binder sittin’ there, with a plain paper cover. On the front it says Art Pad.

“What’s that?” He asks, part ‘cause he doesn’t want her to keep feelin’ weird about what just happened, part ‘cause he’s actually curious.

She blinks, lookin’ up at him, and then she follows his gaze to her lap.

“Oh, it… it’s my sketch book. I… I like to draw.” Somehow her voice sounds even more shy than before.

“Really?” Ash asks. He’s genuinely interested now. “Can I see?”

“… W-well…” Samantha bites her lower lip, her hands tightening reflexively over the binder for a second. “I… I guess…”

She holds onto the book a few seconds longer before finally startin’ to hand it over to him, across the couch.

“I’m not very good or anything.” She starts to excuse herself before he’s even got it in his hands. “It’s just for fun and stuff.”

Ash don’t say nothin’ to that, just takes it from her and lays it on his own lap. He’s careful about openin’ the front up, not wantin’ to damage it at all.

The first page is blank, so he turns to the next.

There’s a drawing done in what looks like charcoal pencils, a portrait of Alex. 

It’s good. It’s _really_ good, Ash thinks. 

He stares at it for a long moment, amazed. The detail is awesome, the use of light and shading, and the accurate proportion. It looked just like Alex. Like a photo even. Like those photo realistic paintings you saw some of them really great artists do. More than that, Ash thinks, it captured some kinda’ quality in Alex’s face that photos usually missed. Somethin’ about who he was, like his personality. 

He keeps starin’ at it for a few seconds more, before turnin’ to the next page. This one’s a buncha’ flowers. The same, intricate detail and realism is here too. 

Goin’ through more, there’s lots of portraits of people Ash don’t know, and a few more of Alex and then their mom. 

All of ‘em are incredible.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Samantha shiftin’ beside him, and he looks up, seein’ her fidgeting again with her sweater, like she’s nervous.

“These are really great.” He says, finally closin’ the book and handin’ it back to her.

She looks up, her eyes wide with surprise.

“R-really? Y-you think?”

Ash nods.

“Yeah. They’re really good. You got real talent. You ever take art lessons or anythin’?”

Samantha shakes her head.

“No, I… I just taught myself, I guess.”

That leaves Ash feelin’ even more impressed. He watches her a few seconds.

“That’s really cool. It must be neat, bein’ all talented at somethin’ like that. I wish I could be like that.”

Samantha’s face gets even more surprised.

“Oh, I… I bet you’re talented at all sorts of things though!”

Ash shakes his head.

“Nah. I ain’t no good at nothin’. Especially art and all that…” he trails off, hestitatin’. He don’t know if he should say nothin’ ‘bout Griff.

He guesses it don’t matter though. Wasn’t like Alex’s sister was gonna use it against him, and Griff was dead. Wasn’t nobody who could hurt him no more.

“… I… I had a brother once who wrote poetry all the time. He was pretty good at it too, I think.”

“Really?! That’s so cool! I didn’t know you had a brother!”

Ash shrugs, lookin’ away.

“I did. But he died in Vietnam.”

“Oh, I… I’m sorry.”

Again Ash shrugs.

“It’s alright.”

“B-but do you write poetry or anything?”

“Nah. I don’t do none ‘a that. I told you, I ain’t no good at nothin’.”

Ash knew that good too, since Dino’d tried givin’ him art lessons and shit, and that was the one thing Ash couldn’t never get no good at. That, and music lessons. Ash wasn’t no good at none of that stuff. Dino’d been pissed about it, ‘cause he expected Ash to be good at everything. It was kinda’ funny, in a way. Made sense, too. You had to be a certain kinda' person, to be good at art, Ash thinks. Someone who wasn't empty inside.

“Oh, b-but… but Alex told me you’re like super smart or something. Aren’t you? He said you know all about computers and stuff like that!”

“… Yeah, but that ain’t nothin’ special. Havin’ talent like you do is special. All I know how to do is…”

He stops himself just before he can say what he was gonna’. Jesus, he didn’t need to be sayin’ that kinda’ stuff in front of a 14 year old girl. What the hell was wrong with him?

Samantha blinks at him.

“What? What are you good at?”

“… Nothin’.” Ash mutters, throat tight. “I was gonna say nothin’.” 

“Well I don’t believe you.” Samantha says, voice suddenly more confident. 

Ash looks up at her, kinda’ surprised, and she smiles at him.

“Hey, are ya good at math? ‘Cause I’m _terrible_ at it. I’m taking algebra 1, and I’m basically failing. I think I’ve got a D- right now, and I’m barely holding on to that.”

Ash swallows, again turnin’ to look at the TV.

“Yeah, I… I guess.” He answers half-heartedly. “What’re you havin’ trouble with?”

“Ohh, here, lemme’ grab my textbook and I’ll show you! Hold on a sec!” 

Ash watches Samantha toss her sketch book onto the coffee table like it wasn’t worth nothin’ before leapin’ to her feet and runnin’ to her room.

He stares after her a second, before his eyes flit back to the forgotten sketch book. He’d meant what he said to her. Havin’ talent like she did was special, and he really did wish he could do somethin’ like that. Maybe if he had talent like she did, he wouldn’t have to resort to suckin’ cocks just to make it to the next day…

Samantha comes runnin’ back in, a thick book cradled against her chest.

She practically leaps back onto the couch, the piece of furniture shiftin’ back a little. She’s excited, grinnin’ wide at Ash, and Ash don’t really know what to make of it. She’s the most hyper kid he thinks he’s ever known. ‘Course, it wasn’t like he knew many kids. Most ‘a the kids he knew were from Club Cod, and all ‘a them were drugged outta’ their minds and broken down. He guesses he don’t really got any good comparisons. 

“Okay, so…” Samantha starts. She lays the book down on the cushions between ‘em, openin’ it up to a certain page. There’s several rows of equations outlined on it, Ash guesses for the student to solve. “I don’t get any of this at all. I’m practically a retard.”

Ash stares at the open book for a second. The equations are all blurred together, and he blinks at ‘em, tryin’ to clear his sight. That’d been happenin’ to him more and more lately. His eyes were goin’ bad on him. He probably needed glasses. He don’t know what he’s gonna do about that. Dino won’t like it, ‘cept Ash don’t think he can keep it hidden from him. Whenever he got called back up to the compound, if Ash didn’t tell Papa ‘bout it, one of his shitty tutors probably would.

“Can I…?” He starts, reachin’ for the textbook and lookin’ up at Samantha.

“Yeah, sure!” 

Ash picks the book up and holds it close to his face, eyes scannin’ over the problems.

It’s just basic algebra. Ash could do shit like this when he was like 4 and 5 years old. He remembers doin’ these exact kinda’ equations at that age. Griff was in high school then, and he’d been takin’ Algebra 2. Ash remembers him leavin’ his math textbook out on the kitchen table, and Ash’d just started goin’ through it and solvin’ all the problems. He remembers how easy it’d been, and when Griff had seen what he’d done, he’d acted like it was amazing and all. Like Ash’d just performed magic or somethin’. After that, he’d decided to go and check out some math books from the local library, Ash guesses to see what he could do. The problems in those books had gotten progressively harder, all the way up ‘till Griff was checkin’ out books on abstract algebra, calculus and physics and shit. It’d taken a little longer to get the hang ‘a those, but once he’d figured ‘em out, they hadn’t been no harder than the algebra. That was when Griff figured Ash was real smart, and he’d started tryin’ to sign him up for advanced classes, like high school and college level. Ash’s teachers at the time had agreed, thinkin’ he should be tryin’ to take more advanced schoolin’. Griff’d even taken Ash up to the local university at one point and he’d talked with some people there. Ash didn’t really know nothin’ ‘bout that, since Griff had made him wait outside the offices while he and the grownups talked, but he remembers his brother tellin’ him the people at the college were real interested in him, and they wanted him to take some IQ tests to see what he could do too. ‘Cept Dad hadn’t been into that idea, and he’d shut it down before Ash could take any kinda tests or anythin’. And that had been that. 

Not like any of it mattered no how. All Ash’s brains had ever gotten him was more trouble, since then. It was ‘cause of his brains that Papa Dino decided to turn him into his little project, so he could wheel him out all the time and show him off to all his perv friends. Like Ash was somethin’ he’d created.

“Alright, well, first, this is pretty easy stuff.” Ash says. He looks up at Samantha. She looks like she don’t believe him. “You just gotta’ have the right method for solvin’ it. Can you show me what your teacher’s been showin’ you in class first?”

“Uh, yeah, I… I can try.”

She starts to go into it. Just a couple steps in, and Ash stops her. 

“This is how your teacher’s been showin’ you how to solve these problems?” He asks, disbelieving. 

“Uh… yeah?”

Ash shakes his head.

“Then your teacher’s a moron.”

Samantha giggles like that’s the funniest shit she’s ever heard, though Ash don’t know why. 

“Here, you can solve most ‘a these equations in not even half as many steps as what that clown’s been showin’ you. The whole point of algebra is so you can write out formulas and solve equations easier. You got a piece ‘a paper and a pencil I can use to show ya?”

“Yeah, hold on.” Again Samantha jumps off the couch and runs to her room. 

She’s back a few seconds later with a notebook and a buncha’ sharpened pencils. She hands ‘em to Ash.

“Alright, so here’s the first thing ya gotta understand. What is algebra? Right?…”

Samantha just stares blankly at him.

“So all’s algebra is, is math that deals with unknown numbers or numbers that can have more than one value. Those are called variables. Usually those are represented with symbols. Any kinda’ symbol that ain’t a number. Okay? So like X, Y, Z. And algebraic method just deals with how to manipulate those symbols. Alright? So let’s look at somethin’ called a quadratic equation. Basically you’ve just got letters standin’ in for numbers, which just allows for proofs of properties which will always be true, no matter what numbers are involved. So in a quadratic equation, you’ve got this.”

Ash writes it out onto the notepad. 

_ax2_ \+ _bx_ \+ _c_ = 0

“Okay, so _a_ can be any number except 0. But this formula lets you find the value of the unknown quantity. Which is?”

“… Ummm… is it X?”

Ash nods.

“Good, that’s right. Okay, so, let’s try this.”

Ash picks out the first problem on the opened textbook.

“Show me how you would solve it.”

Samantha looks nervous, like she don’t really wanna’ do it.

“It’s alright. I ain’t gonna make fun of ya or nothin’. Okay?”

“Al-alright. Well…”

Ash watches her struggle through the problem. Right away she’s makin’a buncha’ mistakes which are easily avoidable, messin’ around with all kindsa’ steps which ain’t necessary, but he lets her work through ‘till the end. She comes up with the wrong answer, and he tells her that’s alright, ‘cause it is, and shows her how to actually do it.

They go through the whole section of equations like that. It takes close to an hour, Ash helpin’ her work through each kind, ‘till by the end, she’s got a pretty good grasp on how to approach the sorts ‘a problems her textbook was presentin’ her with. Good enough to help her improve her grade, at least, he thinks. 

Samantha’s so excited about it, she asks Ash to help her with her chemistry homework next, which he does. It’s all pretty basic stuff. The two of ‘em work together like that ‘till by the time they’re through, it’s almost eight at night. 

Ash is feelin’ kinda’ tired by then, his energy startin’ to go, his lids heavy.

Samantha don’t seem to be havin’ the same problem though. She’s chatterin’ at him, all kindsa’ stuff that Ash can’t really follow too good. Talkin’ about her school and how stupid she thinks all the kids there are.

“Don’t you got any friends?” He asks when she finally gives him a chance to say somethin’. 

She shrugs.

“Sure, I guess. I mean, I’ve got girlfriends and all. They’re alright. They’re into stupid stuff though.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Samantha stops to think, her face scrunchin’ up as she concentrates. “Well, my friend Patty’s totally into this stupid band called Tears for Fears. You ever heard of ‘em?”

Ash shakes his head.

He ain’t really heard ‘a most bands or pop stars or whatever. Sometimes he walks by record shops and sees big displays, advertisin’ the latest star, and Ash ain’t got a clue who any of ‘em are. Dino don’t let him listen to music at the compound, and the only music Dino ever listened to was stuff by classical and romantic composers. Ash could tell you ‘bout them, he guesses, but not much else. 

“Ugh, they’re so annoying. You’re better off not knowin’ about them. What about Duran Duran? Or Hall & Oats?” 

Again Ash shakes his head. He feels his face heat up a little. He hopes Samantha don’t think he’s too weird. 

“Really?! What about The Commodores? Or, ohh David Bowie! You must know who he is!”

Ash looks away and again, he shakes his head.

“Come on! You’ve gotta be kidding me! What, have you been living under a rock or something?!”

“… No.” Ash answers. His voice comes out weak. He feels embarrassed, even though it’s stupid. Who cared about a buncha’ stupid rock music stars anyhow? 

“Jeeze…” Samantha breathes like she can’t believe it.

“I guess I’m just a weirdo.” Ash mutters. He brings his thumb to his mouth, chewin’ on the nail. 

“Oh… I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised is all.” Samantha says. 

Ash shrugs. He can’t look at her. 

“Well… anyway,” she continues. “All my friends are like that. They’re into all these stupid things like that, movie stars too. One of my other friends has got a huge crush on Al Pacino. It’s so gross.”

Ash don’t know who that is either. 

He don’t say nothin’, and he can feel Samantha lookin’ at him. She must think he’s a real freak. He guesses he is.

“I wish they could meet you. You’re way cooler than any of the guys at my school. I bet if they met you, they’d forgot all about their celebrity crushes!”

“… I don’t think so.” Ash mumbles, more to himself than her. 

“They totally would. For starters, you’re seriously hot. Hotter than all those jerks combined!”

Ash feels his frame lock up, his hands curlin’ into the cushions beneath him. 

“Oh… I mean…” Samantha starts, then stops. “I just mean you’re a lot cooler, ya know?”

“I ain’t cool.” Ash snaps, harsher than he means to. “You shouldn’t even wanna hang around me. I ain’t whatever it is you think I am. I’m fucked up.”

Samantha blinks at him, her mouth hangin’ open, and Ash feels like a complete asshole. 

Shit, he didn’t mean to sound so pissed about it. He couldn’t even control himself around some girl. 

“W-what do you mean?” She asks, soundin’ all of a sudden scared.

“I just mean you shouldn’t wanna be around me. I got problems and you’re just a normal girl.”

“I’m not that normal! I know what my brother does! I know he… he deals drugs or something.” Her voice gets quiet, like she’s sayin’ somethin’ out loud she souldn’t.

Ash sighs, lookin’ away.

“… Yeah. Well… him and me ain’t the same either. You got other people you should be around. Not me. You got a family that cares about ya, and friends. That’s more than a lotta’ people got.”

Samantha goes quiet for a minute.

“… Y-you don’t like me, I guess. Huh?” She says, soundin’ like her feelin’s are hurt, her voice quiverin’ like she’s gonna cry or somethin’, and Ash clenches his teeth.

“I didn’t say that. Look, I just mean… your friends sound cool too. You shouldn’t… shouldn’t be so hard on ‘em. Alright? You know ‘em a lot better than you know me, don’t you? You should be happy you got friends like that.”

“… I guess.” She sounds disappointed.

Ash don’t know what she wants from him. He don’t know how to talk to her. 

“… I’m bad news.” He tells her quietly, lookin’ away. “Alright? It ain’t you. I’m a messed up kid, that’s all. You can do a lot better than me. You got better people in your life already. You don’t need to be hangin’ ‘round street rats like me. And… and there’s plenty ‘a guys out there that’d be happy havin’ you be their girlfriend, I bet.”

He can hear her snifflin’ and huffin’, like she don’t wanna hear it. He’s about to open his mouth and try and tell her again. It was for her own good. Even… even if he had to hurt her feelin’s and all. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t be with her. She had to get that through her head.

“Have _you_ ever had a girlfriend?” She asks suddenly, before he can say anythin’ else.

Ash’s stomach drops out from under him, a sick, awful feelin’ fillin’ his guts.

He don’t know what to say to her about that, so he don’t say nothin’. 

“I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything.” She goes on, not seemin’ to care whether he answers or not. “I mean, not really. I went out to the bowling alley once with this guy from school named Jacob, but that wasn’t really a date, ‘cause a bunch of us all went. Ya know?”

No, Ash thinks. He don’t know. He don’t know nothin’ about none of this. 

“Jacob took me home after, and he… he tried to kiss me, but I shoved him away. I think I made a real ass out of myself. I was so embarrassed afterward.”

Ash wants her to stop talkin’. He wants her to shut up. But he don’t know how to make her. Not without bein’ mean about it. So he just stays quiet and hopes she shuts up on her own.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

 _Shut up, shut up, shut up_ …

“O-or has a girl ever kissed you?”

Hot, stinkin’ breath in his face and a hand wrapped tight round the back of his neck, holdin’ him still, forcin’ his head up. Wet, fat lips shoved against his own, and a thick, slimy tongue pressin’ up against his teeth. Big, hairy stomach laid up against his own, and he can’t move none. He can’t move. He’s so heavy. The man on top of him is so heavy. There’s a hand between his legs, tuggin’ and pullin’ and rubbin’ at him…

“ _Open your mouth. Open your fuckin’ mouth, you little cunt. Open it, or I’ll chop that tiny dick of yours off and shove it down your throat. You wanna choke to death on your own cock, you little faggot piece of shit?! You want me to kill you?!_ ”

A surge of bile works up his throat, and Ash panics.

He don’t say nothin’ as he bolts off the couch and for the bathroom. He thinks he hears Alex’s sister call after him, but he don’t really know. 

He’s gonna be sick.

He barely makes it to the toilet in time before he’s pukin’ up the bowl of cereal he ate earlier that afternoon. He pukes it all up, and keeps retchin’ after, clear bile spillin’ into the water, until there ain’t nothin’ else left.

He spits, chest heavin’, the pain in his ribs makin’ him dizzy.

He slumps against the seat.

The memories tear at his brain, the first time… the first time… oh… oh Christ, please… _please_ …

“Ash?”

He flinches hard at the sound of her voice behind him. Oh God…

“A-are you alright?”

He’s shakin’, his hands are shakin’. He tries nodding.

“… I’m alright.” He tells her, but his voice comes out more like a gasp, weak and uneven.

“Do… do you want me to get you some water or something?”

He shakes his head.

“… No. J-just… just give me a minute. Please? I just need a minute. I’m sorry. C-can you close the door?” 

She don’t say nothin’ for a long moment, and Ash’s eyes squeeze closed. He can feel tears pool and slip free, hot down his face. Go away, he thinks desperately. Please go away.

“Alright, well, i-if you need help, I’ll be right out here. Okay?”

Again Ash nods.

“Okay.”

He waits to hear her receding footsteps, the door clicking softly shut behind her, and Ash sinks all the way to the floor, ‘till his head’s touchin’ the cool tile.

He drags his hand up to his mouth, pressin’ the palm against his lips just before a harsh sob tries breakin’ past his teeth. 

God, oh God… he can’t stay here no more. He can’t… can’t be around these people. He don’t know what the hell it is he’s doin’. He don’t know what he’s doin’. 

He’s so fucked up.

They were all normal. Normal people. Good people. And he wasn’t nothin’ but a dirty, filthy whore. Nothin’ but a piece ‘a shit trash bag. A fuckin’ cum bucket. That’s what he was.

What was he doin’, hangin’ around a young girl like Samantha? He couldn’t… he couldn’t do this to her, or Alex, or their mom. He had to get out.

He had to get the hell outta’ here, before he ruined their lives too, like he ruined everything. If he kept hangin’ around, he was just gonna’ ruin everything.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my thanks once again to all my readers and reviewers! Please leave a comment!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include plenty of hate slurs thrown about.

A month passes, late October turnin’ to late November, the weather turnin’ deadly with it, nights droppin’ well past zero and snow laid thick all over the ground. 

Ash starts hangin’ out more with Alex and his crew. Two or three times a week, he hooks up with ‘em, usually outside the library, since that’s where Ash spends most of his days. He ain’t even sure how it happened, they all started hangin’ out regular.

A few days after Ash’d finally cleared outta’ Alex’s place, Marvin had come round and found him, saddlin’ him with a couple jobs for Dino. A drug run and another hit. 

Both of ‘em he’d been paired up with Alex again, this time with Kong and Bones taggin’ along, and Ash guesses that’d been some of the reason they’d started hangin’ more.

Dino’d made him do the killin’ again. Some mafia hood who’d outgrown his usefulness. Ash hadn’t known what he did, or why Dino wanted him dead. Marvin had told him if he fucked it up, his Dad and Jennifer would be dead by mornin’. So him and Alex and the others had got him in the middle ‘a that same night. Ash’d shot him right between the eyes. 

Like the first man Dino told him to kill, Ash can’t get the guy’s face outta’ his mind now. He dreams about him at night. Sees the startled expression he had, right before Ash popped him. He wakes up with tears runnin’ down his face and thinks he ain’t got no right to feel nothin’ but hatred for himself. Can’t stop thinkin’ of who the guy might’ve left behind. Who was hurtin’ because he was dead now. Who else’ life had he destroyed? 

He was a piece of shit. A fuckin’ worthless, piece of shit killer.

He didn’t talk about it none with Alex or the others. Wasn’t no point. Ash’d seen the looks on their faces after he’d killed the guy. They’d had them impressed looks, like they thought he was a real bad motherfucker. Alex told him the guy he’d popped was a real hardcore killer. Another hitman for the mob. They thought it was cool that Ash’d got him easy as he did.

They didn’t understand. 

Ash wonders if they’d ever killed anyone with their own hands. 

He don’t ask. 

Alex’d told all of ‘em he had to pick his sister up from school today. Their mom usually did it, but she had an early shift she had to work, so it was up to Alex to walk her home. Ash and the others had gone with him, so they were all standin’ around now outside ‘a some middle school, waiting for her to come out.

Ash keeps his back pressed up against the chain link fence they’re standin’ outside of, arms across his chest, and watches the groups of school kids streamin’ outta the gate, onto the sidewalk. They’re all talkin’ and chatterin’ at one another, laughin’ and rowdy the way those kids back at that arcade had been. 

They look like children. Look like how they’re supposed to.

Ash’s fingers twitch ‘round the cigarette he’s holdin’, and he brings it to his lips, takin’ a hard drag off it before flickin’ the ash onto the ground. 

He don’t know what that feels like even. Whatever it was, those kids felt. 

Alex and Bones are laughin’ about somethin’ together, Kong standin’ with ‘em, a bemused look on his broad face. They’re probably laughin’ at him, Ash thinks. 

Samantha finally shows, comin’ out from the gate, talkin’ a mile a minute with a couple ‘a other girls. She’s got a bright smile on her face, her eyes lit up and happy.

“Yo, Sam!” Alex calls when he spots her.

Samantha turns, gaze searchin’ a moment before they land on her brother. Her eyes go wider when she spots Ash, and Ash looks away.

He hadn’t talked to her much after that day he’d helped her with her homework. He’d split a couple days later, and avoided talkin’ to her a whole lot before that. He hoped she wasn’t hurt by it or nothin’. It wasn’t her. He was just fucked up.

Samantha says somethin’ else to her friends, and then she’s runnin’ over.

“Where’s Mom?” She asks Alex.

“She had an early shift. Come on, I’m supposed to walk ya home.”

“Can’t I hang out with you guys?!” Samantha’s voice comes out like a whine.

“No. You know you can’t.” Alex tells her flat. “Now come on.”

His sister huffs, doin’ nothin’ to hide how stupid she thinks Alex is bein’. 

“Why? It’s not like you and your friends do anything all day accept hang out at the arcade and act cool. You think you’re so tough.”

Ash pushes himself off the fence, flickin’ his cigarette away before startin’ off, back towards Alex’s place.

He hears Alex and Samantha arguin’ back and forth behind him, and then the sound of footsteps as they realize he’d already started walkin’, followin’ fast behind.

Ash has got his mind on what he knows is comin’. Dino always wanted him up at the compound for Christmas and New Years. He was gonna’ expect Ash to have a lotta’ cash from hookin’ after bein’ out here so long, and right now, all Ash had was a couple hundred and some change. He was gonna’ have to get hustlin’ harder if he was gonna’ make enough to keep Dino from shittin’ a brick. That was assumin’ Dino let him stay out ‘till Christmas. If he sent Marvin or one of his other goons to come get him before then, Ash was shit outta’ luck.

He didn’t know what he was gonna’ do.

Even if he let himself be fucked by every John he picked up from now ‘till then, he didn’t think he could make enough to satisfy Papa. Not when he could be makin’ five grand a night rentin’ Ash out to high payin’ cliental at Club Cod. If Ash couldn’t show he could make a lot workin’ the streets, Dino was gonna send him back to workin’ in the club regular, and Ash couldn’t do that. He couldn’t. 

His thoughts blow apart when he feels someone tuggin’ on his sleeve, and he turns, seein’ Samantha pulled up at his side. He looks at her, and notices for the first time she’s wearin’ the jacket he gave her a month earlier. She’s smilin’ big at him, eyes excited. She’s actually a little taller than him, he realizes. She musta’ grown in the last month. 

“Hi Ash!” Her voice is kinda’ loud, like she can’t control it. 

“Hey,” he answers back, lookin’ away. He sticks his hands inside his coat pockets.

No one says nothin’ for a few minutes. Ash wishes she’d fall back and bug the other guys instead of him. He still don’t get why she was so into him. 

“How come you haven’t come back to our apartment?” She suddenly asks. She’s swingin’ her arms back and forth at her sides in an exaggerated way. It’s settin’ Ash’s nerves on edge and he wishes she would stop.

“I don’t live there.” He tells her, keepin’ his eyes fixed ahead.

“Yeah, but you don’t live anywhere. Right? Alex told me you’re homeless.”

Ash feels himself stiffen, his knees lockin’ up. 

His face burns.

He wishes Alex hadn’t ‘a told her that. Why the hell’d he have to go and tell her that? 

“You could come live with us, if you don’t have a home. Mom likes you, so I don’t think she’d mind.”

Ash keeps movin’. He don’t answer.

“What do ya think?” She keeps pressin’, and Ash can feel his hands curlin’ to fists in his pockets, his nails bitin’ into his palms.

“I can’t live with you.” He tells her, workin’ to keep his voice even. 

“But why not? If you don’t have any other place…”

“Because I just can’t! Alright? Drop it!”

He sees Samantha’s eyes go big, a quiet, startled gasp slippin’ past her lips.

Ash grits his teeth, regret like lead droppin’ into his gut. Fuck, he didn’t mean… he didn’t mean that. He didn’t mean to snap at her.

“Yo, everything okay up there?” He hears Alex call from behind. 

Samantha don’t answer him, and when he glances back at her, Ash can see the tears in her eyes. 

God, he was such a fuckin’ stupid ass.

“I’m just bein’ an asshole.” He calls back to Alex. “She’s alright.”

He looks back at Samantha.

“I’m sorry. It ain’t you, alright? I got a lotta’ things goin’ on in my life, and I can’t be livin’ with you and your family. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with you though. Okay?”

Samantha sniffs, her hand comin’ up and wipin’ at her eyes. 

“… Alright.” She answers.

What the hell was he doin’ talkin’ to this girl anyhow? She shouldn’t be talkin’ to no freakshow like him. Even if she was Alex’s sister, and Alex was a street punk, Samantha wasn’t that. Ash doubted she’d ever had any kinda’ real experience out here. She was sheltered, and she should stay that way.

So he keeps quiet and keeps walkin’. Samantha keeps at his side, but she don’t say nothin’ else either, and that’s how they stay ‘till they’re almost all the way to Alex’s place.

A couple blocks out, and it don’t take Ash long to notice the group of older kids headin’ for ‘em down the sidewalk from the opposite direction. Don’t take him long to recognize the one out front as the same, tall bastard from the arcade. Arthur or whatever the hell his name was.

Shit…

He don’t think when he grabs Samantha’s shoulder and shoves her back behind him, closer to the others.

“Well, well, well…” Arthur starts, spreadin’ his hands out at his sides. “Look who it is, boys! That pretty boy faggot and his posse ‘a pussy friends!” 

There’s 13 of ‘em, Ash counts quick, includin’ Arthur. Four against thirteen. Great. 

He feels himself stiffen as the taller boy comes nearer. He’s gotta’ be 17 or 18, Ash thinks. ‘Least he looks it. He’s taller than him by at least half a foot, more like seven or eight inches. Taller than Alex by a lot. As tall as Kong. 

“Fuck off Arthur! We ain’t got nothin’ to say to you!” Alex snaps from behind. 

Arthur don’t even react to him, his eyes fixed on Ash. He keeps comin’ ‘till he’s right up in Ash’s space, only a couple inches away.

“I been askin’ around about you.” He grins down at him. “Ash Lynx. That your name?”

Ash glares up at him and don’t say nothin’.

“Stupid fuckin’ name.” One of the others says, laughin’.

“Sounds like some hooker’s name, don’t it?”

Arthur’s grin spreads wider.

“Ya know, Chopper, now that you mention it… it sure _does_ sound like a hooker’s name. I guess that makes a whole lotta’ sense, though, considerin’ what I been hearin’ ‘bout our little friend here. Word is you can be found down on the Deuce most every night, Ash Lynx. Standin’ around with all them other girls. That true? You out there most nights with them other girls?”

“What the fuck do you want?” Ash snaps.

They all got weapons, Ash thinks. There wasn’t no getting’ outta’ this situation just by fightin’. Not four against thirteen. 

“I just wanna’ talk to ya a minute, _Ash_. That okay? Just wanna’ ask you a few questions.”

“Then ask me.” Ash tells him. “Let them keep goin’ though.” He nods back toward Alex and the others. “Your problem’s with me, ain’t it?”

Arthur’s grin turns to a smirk, his eyes liftin’ off Ash for a moment, shiftin’ to the others behind him, before comin’ back.

“Who’s she?” He asks. “She your girlfriend?” 

Arthur lifts a hand, startin’ to reach over Ash’s shoulder.

Ash smacks his hand away, hard, and watches Arthur’s eyes go wide with shock.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her.” 

Arthur stares at him, the same, dumb look on his face, like he can’t believe Ash’d hit him, before that smug smile ‘a his comes spreadin’ back up his lips.

“Touchy, ain’t we?” 

“She’s my sister Arthur, now leave us the fuck alone! Why you always buggin’ us?” Alex tries again.

“I ain’t talkin’ to you, bitch!” Arthur snaps, his eyes cuttin’ to Alex, before they’re back again on Ash, hard and full of hate. “If she ain’t your girl, why you so protective of her, huh?”

“I’ll bet she’s his beard Arthur!” 

Arthur’s teeth show.

“Yeah… that makes more sense. Considerin’ you out there every night suckin’ cock. So what, you usin’ this girl to cover for yourself? You know that ‘bout your little boyfriend here, girlie?” He looks away again over Ash’s shoulder. Lookin’ at Samantha. “You know he out there every night on the Deuce, suckin’ cock and takin’ it up the ass for some loose change? Your boyfriend here’s a real queer slut.”

Ash hears Samantha’s sharp gasp, and Alex mutterin’ somethin’ to her. His nails dig into his palms. 

“Stop talkin’ to her! She ain’t my girlfriend, and your problem’s with me. She ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

“Why’re you so defensive Ash? I just wanna talk to the little lady. If she ain’t your girlfriend, then you shouldn’t have no problem.”

Arthur again reaches out over Ash’s shoulder, and Ash's had enough. 

He grabs hold’a Arthur’s wrist, shovin’ his arm away.

“I told you to leave her the fuck alone! Ya know, you call me a faggot, but the only fag I see here is you, pickin’ on a girl not even half your size. Guess you think that makes you a real man or some shit? You’re a fuckin’ bitch if ever I saw one.”

A chorus of ohhhs go up around ‘em, and for a second, there’s naked rage across Arthur’s features, his eyes boilin’ as they stare down at Ash. 

“Yo, Alex, so what’s the deal? This faggot in charge of your group now? You really gonna let some cock suckin’ whore be your boss?”

“He’d be a better boss than you ever were!” Alex snaps.

“Is that right?” Arthurs hisses.

“What’re you talkin’ to him for?” Ash asks. “He ain’t got nothin’ to do with this. I thought you were talkin’ to me? Unless you’re scared or somethin’?”

That gets Arthur’s attention back on him. Good. 

“The fuck did you just say?”

“I asked if you were scared.” Ash says again, voice flat. “I’m guessin’ that’s the only reason a bitch like you would start talkin’ all kindsa’ shit and then be too much of a coward to back it up. You come at me and then when I call you out on it, you start lookin’ everywhere else. So you must be scared.”

Arthur looks like he’s gonna explode with rage, his face startin’ to turn red. His hands flex and unflex at his sides, whole frame suddenly tense as hell.

“Scared of what? _You?_ Give me a fuckin’ break, shit for brains. How old are you anyway? Ten? You look like you can’t weigh no more than 90 pounds soakin’ wet.”

Ash smirks up at him. 

He didn’t even weigh that. Last time Dino’d weighed him, he’d come in under 85. 

_That’s right, you dumb fuck_ , he thinks, _keep gettin’ mad. Keep your attention on me._

“So? It only makes you look like more of a bitch than you already do. And in front ‘a all your boys here too, huh? Can’t imagine what they must think.”

“You little fucker!” Arthur finally snaps, lashin’ out. He tries grabbin’ hold of Ash, and Ash ducks fast under his hands, turnin’ so he’s facin’ Arthur’s back now.

“Over here, dumb ass.” He says.

Arthur spins around, his face twisted with fury. 

Ash just smiles at him. 

“Guess you’re kinda’ slow.” 

There’s agitation workin’ through Arthur’s crew now, voices one on top of another as they start wonderin’ what the hell’s goin’ on. 

Ash’s eyes slide quick to Alex, givin’ him a look he hopes the older boy understands. He wants him to get the hell outta’ here, take Samantha with him. 

Alex looks back at him, eyes wide.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, you maggot piece ‘a shit!” Arthur starts, pullin’ Ash’s attention back to him. 

“Well you better do it quick, before your boys here start to wonder if what I’m sayin’ ain’t right.” 

Arthur comes at him again, and again Ash ducks under his blow. 

Arthur was bigger than him by a lot. Ash didn’t have no doubt if he got his hands on him, he’d be stronger too, and then Ash’d have a problem. But Ash was quicker. His reflexes had always been real good. He just had to keep outta’ his hands long enough for Alex and the others to get away, and then he could make a break for it too.

“Come on man. What’s wrong? You gonna let a cock suckin’ faggot like me make you look bad in front ‘a your own crew? Moves like that, they’re gonna start thinkin’ maybe you missed your stop for the short bus.”

Another grab from Arthur. Ash times it perfect, steppin’ back just as he lunges, and Arthur stumbles forward, almost losin’ his footin’ and goin’ down. 

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you little cunt, I’ll fuckin’…”

Ash makes him miss a couple times more, until Arthur’s breathin’ heavy, sweat standin’ out on his forehead. Ash looks to Alex again, jerkin’ his head in the opposite direction, and finally Alex seems to get what he’s doin’.

His eyes go wide in understandin’, and suddenly he’s pushin’ his sister at Kong and Bones, startin’ to talk to ‘em, tellin’ ‘em to take Samantha and go, Ash hopes.

He don’t have time to catch it though, ‘cause Arthur is comin’ at him again.

Ash shouldn’t ‘a let himself be distracted like that, but he did, and Arthur clips him against the side ‘a his head. He manages to avoid the brunt of it, but it’s enough of a hit to let Ash know he wasn’t wrong ‘bout Arthur bein’ stronger than him. For a second, the world spins, and Ash can feel himself stagger back, a sharp, sudden ringin’ in his ear. 

Arthur smiles at him, vicious. 

He looks like he’s gonna lunge at him again, and Ash feels himself stiffin’, gettin’ ready to jump outta’ the way.

Only Arthur don’t come. Instead he stands up straight, lookin’ at Ash with calculating eyes. 

“You’re real good at runnin’ away, ain’t ya Ash?”

“Well, when you make it so easy…” Ash says back.

There’s the sound of feet hittin’ the pavement, and Ash lets his eyes glance for just a second to where Samantha and the others had been, relief floodin’ his chest when he sees ‘em hightailin’ it down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Alex is still there though, watching him and Arthur with fear filled eyes. 

“You can’t keep dodgin’ all of us.” Arthur spits, not even noticin’ Ash’s distraction. “How ‘bout I set my boys here on your ass and they can hold ya down while I pound that pretty face ‘a yours into mush.”

Ash’s eyes slide back to Arthur.

“Yeah, but how’d that look? You needin’ your crew just to take care of some pipsqueak faggot like me? Ain’t you supposed to be the baddest motherfucker around here?”

“Arthur, man, you ain’t gonna let him keep talkin’ to you like that, is you!?” 

“Shut the fuck up Ronny!” Arthur half screams. “All of you’s, shut your fuckin’ faces!”

Arthur looks back at Ash, and he’s got that mean look in his eye. Ash recognizes it alright. The kinda’ look he saw in all them psycho’s when they wanted to kill you. When just the thought of it got ‘em all turned on.

“Ash…” Alex calls. His voice is strained and scared.

“It’s alright Alex.” Ash tells him. He don’t take his eyes off Arthur though. He knows that look. Knows better than to get distracted now.

“I’ve had just about enough of playin’ with you, little boy.” Arthur says, and suddenly he’s reachin’ into his coat pocket. Ash tenses, and watches as the older boy pulls a switchblade outta his jacket. He flicks it open, a nasty, ten inch blade poppin’ free. “You ever been in a knife fight, Ash? If you have, you should know this is how we figure who gets to be boss ‘round these parts. Since you seem so eager to be the boss ‘a Alex and his crew of shitheads, why don’t you and me figure it out right now?”

“I don’t wanna’ be the boss of nobody.” Ash tells him, steppin’ back. “Alex and his friends can do what they want. I ain’t got no part in it.”

Ash’s gaze flits back and forth between Arthur’s eyes and the knife he’s twirlin’ in his fingers.

He’s got his gun, but he knows the second he pulls it, the rest of Arthur’s gang’ll just shoot him dead. Worse, they’d shoot Alex too. 

“Oh, then how come every time I come ‘round tryin’ to make Alex understand if he wants to keep operatin’ outta’ this area, he’s gotta work for me, you show up and interfere?”

Arthur takes a step toward him, and Ash takes another back.

“… Alex is my friend, that’s why. Friends stand up for each other. That, and you’re a fuckin’ asshole. It’s hard to ignore.”

Arthur throws his head back and laughs.

“Ya know, kiddo, you got balls on ya, I’ll give you that. But that’s the last fuckin’ insult I’m gonna let you get away with. Somebody give this cunt a knife, and we’ll settle the score right now.”

“Ash, man…” Alex calls again. His voice is shakin’, like he’s really scared. Ash can guess why. Just from watchin’ the way Arthur’s twirlin’ that blade, it’s obvious he’s good with it. And Ash ain’t never been in no knife fight before. He ain’t even ever handled no switchblade, or any kinda’ knife. He wouldn’t even know what to do. 

If he gets into a knife fight with Arthur, he’s probably gonna’ die. 

The realization is disrupted by the sound of metal strikin’ against the pavement, and Ash glances down, seein’ someone’s thrown a switchblade at his feet. 

“Pick it up.” Arthur tells him.

“Ash, don’t…”

“You keep the fuck outta’ this Alex! This is between him and me now!” 

“He ain’t our boss, man! He’s just a kid! Leave him the fuck alone already!” Alex shouts back.

“I don’t give a fuck if he’s a baby suckin’ on his Mom’s tits! He decided he was gonna involve himself, well, now he’s _fuckin’_ involved! Pick the knife up faggot, or Alex here’s gonna get himself a body full ‘a holes.”

The familiar sound of hammers bein’ cocked fills the air, and a quick glance to the side shows all ‘a Arthur’s crew has got their guns drawn, aimin’ right at Alex. 

Wasn’t no choice then.

Ash bends down and picks the knife up.

“Good boy.” Arthur grins at him.

Ash looks at the knife. It feels awkward and heavy in his hand. He realizes he don’t even know how to open it. 

Arthur must see it, ‘cause his voice rings out, mocking and sick.

“What’s the matter? Don’t know how it works? Come on, Ash. You better get ready, ‘cause I’m comin’ at you.”

It’s all the warnin’ Ash gets before Arthur’s lungin’ at him, his knife cuttin’ a wicked arc through the air, right for his face.

Ash jumps back and spins away, barely avoidin’ the blow.

Arthur turns with him, his grin turnin’ twisted and nasty. 

“ASH!” Alex cries. “What the hell are ya doin’!? Get your blade out!”

“He don’t know how to use it, dumbass!” Arthur laughs. “Guess our little princess here’s a real delicate flower after all. Ain’t never been in a real knife fight even.”

He makes another lunge, and again Ash barely manages to dodge, duckin’ under the swing this time. He falls to his knees from the momentum and rolls outta’ the way of another slash, back up onto his feet. 

He’s faster than Arthur. He’s got better reflexes. That was all he had goin’ for him now in this fight. 

“The button near the butt!” Alex yells, voice raw and desperate. “Push the button near the butt ‘a the knife Ash!”

Ash fumbles with the thing, tryin’ to find whatever it is Alex is talkin’ about. It don’t take long, but it’s long enough for Arthur to take advantage of, and when he attacks this time, Ash don’t move fast enough. He feels the deep slice through his upper right arm just as he tries spinnin’ away, the sharp, awful sting of his flesh comin’ apart. 

It hurts, but it ain’t nothin’ Ash can’t handle. He presses the button on the knife, and a blade comes poppin’ out, just like Arthur’s. 

“Ohh, so you finally figured it out, huh kiddie? So now I guess there ain’t no excuses. This here’s a fair fight.”

Ash don’t say nothin’. He stands there, eyes on Arthur, waitin’. He grips the knife in his right hand, the hilt of it feelin’ slippery against his palm.

Arthur stares back, mouth all curled back and his teeth all standin’ out white. 

He comes at Ash again, and Ash watches his movement, his arm arcin’ up from below, toward his stomach. Ash thinks he’s got him, steppin’ to the left and comin’ up over the top to try and parry the blow away. Only Arthur don’t do like Ash thought he would. He flips the blade halfway through the movement, so he’s holdin’ it horizontal instead ‘a vertical, and it happens too fast for Ash to react. He tries jumpin’ back, but it’s too late.

There’s a searin’ awful pain which cuts across his stomach, and Ash feels himself stagger back, his knees goin’ suddenly weak underneath him.

“ASH!”

“Ohh, that looks like it hurts, pretty boy.” Arthur smiles. 

Ash blinks up at him, before his eyes are dragged down to himself, and he sees the bright bloom of red spreadin’ fast across the front of his shirt, turnin’ the yellow material a sickly kinda’ pink. 

Shit…

That probably wasn’t good.

“I don’t know how you managed to step back quick as you did.” Arthur starts again. “If you hadn’t, well, you’d be dead already. Gotta’ give you credit for lastin’ this long. But it’s over now, Ash. That slice should slow ya down enough for me to finish the job.”

A wave of dizziness hits Ash hard, and for a second he’s sure he must be fallin’. Only he shakes his head and realizes a moment later he’s still on his feet.

His hands are shakin’. 

He can’t feel nothin’.

He looks back up at Arthur, and sees the older boy smilin’ gross and violent at him. He wants to kill him, Ash thinks. Arthur wants to kill him.

He tries steppin’ back and feels his knees buckle. He staggers a little to the side, barely keepin’ upright.

There’s a sound like laughter and chanting in his ears, loud and muffled at the same time, and it’s Arthur’s crew, he thinks. They’re makin’ that sound.

Somewhere behind all that, he thinks he hears Alex callin’ his name over and over.

He presses his left hand against his stomach, thinkin’ it should hurt. But it doesn’t.

He’s in shock, he realizes a moment later.

Movement outta’ his periphery pulls his eyes back up, and he sees Arthur circlin’ around to his left, movin’ in closer.

“You ready to die, pretty boy?” He hears Arthur say. His voice sounds far away, like he’s underwater.

The chanting sound gets louder still.

Arthur’s gonna try now, Ash thinks. He’s gonna try to kill him now.

Well, fuck it.

It’s his last thought before Arthur comes fast and hard at him, and Ash turns toward him as he does. 

It’s the same move. It’s the same move as before. Underhand, upward slash, flippin’ the blade to make it a vertical slice across the belly.

Stupid, Ash thinks. Stupid to use the same move twice in a row like that.

Somethin’ someone would do that didn’t think nothin’ of their opponent. 

Ash twists his body back and to the left, Arthur’s blade just whizzin’ past his abdomen as he does, and he turns, so that he’s facin’ Arthur’s back again.

He don’t hesitate.

He kicks Arthur in his back, hard as he can, right above where his tailbone is at.

He hears Arthur give a strangled grunt, before he’s topplin’ forward and onto his knees, and Ash moves fast then. He’s on the older boy before he can do nothin’, kickin’ him right between the shoulder blades so he goes flat on his face. He hears Arthur’s knife skitter across the pavement as he loses hold on it. And then Ash grabs up a fistful ‘a his hair, twistin’ it hard as he rolls Arthur over onto his back. He’s got his own knife against his throat and his knee on his chest before he can even blink, his hand still twisted in the older boy’s hair. 

Arthur’s face is pure shock.

So’s the dead silence around ‘em, Ash figures.

He glares down at Arthur, the edge of the blade restin’ just against his Adam’s apple. He don’t put any pressure on it. He don’t think he has to. 

The look of shock gradually slips off Arthur’s face, his features twistin’ into anger and hate. Underneath, Ash can see the fear in his eyes. 

“… Well… ain’t this somethin’.” He starts, his voice strained from the blade restin’ against his throat. “Guess even fags like you can get lucky sometimes.”

“Wasn’t luck.” Ash tells him. “You just got sloppy.”

Arthur grins at him.

“Guess so. So what’re you gonna do now? Kill me?”

Ash stares back at him for a long time, and he don’t say nothin’, and he can see the fear in Arthur’s eyes bleed through more and more.

He’s afraid to die. ‘Cause he don’t know nothin’ about it, Ash thinks. That was how it always was. People who killed the easiest, it was ‘cause they didn’t know nothin’ about death.

It’s so stupid, Ash thinks. It’s all so stupid.

“Why fuckin’ bother?” He finally answers.

He don’t miss the flash of surprise in the older boy’s face, before he leans back, pullin’ the blade away from Arthur’s throat and tossin’ it across the pavement.

There’s a murmur of disbelief which works through the crowd around ‘em, and Ash pushes himself up to his own feet, movin’ away.

“Leave Alex and his friends alone from now on.” Ash tells Arthur, still down on the ground, starin’ up at him with a confused face. 

Ash only spares him another few seconds, before he turns and finds Alex, standin’ back and away from the others, the same, shocked expression on Arthur’s face mirrored in his own. 

“Let’s go.” He tells him, walkin’ past Arthur’s crew, back to Alex’s side. The group lets him go without tryin’ to stop him.

His legs feel stiff and weak underneath him, and he thinks he ain’t gonna be able to make it far, the adrenaline of the fight bleedin’ outta’ him fast, leavin’ his head light and nausea swirlin’ in his gut. The slice across his stomach is already startin’ to burn, an awful ache where he keeps his hand pressed over his soaked through shirt.

“Hey! Hey, wait a minute!” Arthur screams behind ‘em. Ash ignores him, keeps walkin’. Alex watches him a long, few moments, before he seems to realize what’s happenin’, and he starts, rushin’ to Ash’s side. “WAIT A FUCKIN’ MINUTE!”

“… I feel kinda’ woozy man.” Ash admits, once they’re halfway down the block. His voice comes out thready and weird. 

A second later, his knees give out, and Alex barely catches him around the waist, pullin’ him back up and against his side.

“Woah! Holy shit man… I… I got you!”

“I’M COMIN’ FOR YOU ASH LYNX, YOU MOTHERFUCKIN’ BASTARD!” He hears Arthur still screamin’ behind ‘em, his voice gettin’ more and more distant. “JUST YOU FUCKIN’ WAIT! THIS AIN’T OVER! I’M GONNA GET YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH FAGGOT MOTHERFUCKER!”

“Come on…” he thinks he hears Alex say beside him.

Arthur’s voice gets farther away. Him and Alex get ‘round a corner.

They keep movin’, and Ash’s legs feel like lead weights underneath him, and Alex keeps talkin’, his arm tight around Ash’s waist.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.” He’s sayin’. “Holy shit, man, I can’t believe you. I can’t fuckin’ believe you!”

Ash don’t know what Alex is talkin’ about, but it don’t really matter. 

After a while, Ash can’t walk no more, his breaths comin’ hard and heavy in his ears. He pushes away from Alex, stumblin’ forward a couple feet before he collapses against the side of a building, lettin’ himself slide down ‘till he’s sittin’ on the pavement.

Alex moves with him, his eyes startled.

“You alright man?” He asks, and Ash shakes his head.

“Not really.” He mutters.

He grits his teeth, hands shakin’ as he fumbles with the hem of his shirt, peelin’ it back up off his stomach. It sticks and pulls at the skin, the material soaked all the way through with his blood now. 

“Jesus, you’re really bleedin’…” Alex starts. “W… we maybe should get you to a doctor?”

Ash shakes his head again, starin’ down at himself.

His stomach’s all smeared with fresh and dryin’ blood, makin’ it hard to see the actual gash.

He swallows, throat suddenly dry as dirt, and presses his fingers ‘round the edges of the wound, pullin’ at it. 

Fresh blood squirts out as he forces the edges apart, and Alex makes a sound like he’s gonna be sick. It burns like fuckin’ fire, the pain makin’ Ash’s head spin.

The cut’s ragged and nasty lookin’, but Ash can tell to look at it that it ain’t that deep. Arthur’d just caught him with the edge of the blade and dragged a long slice across his abdomen. But he hadn’t got the knife deep. 

“God man, th-that looks nasty. Shit…”

“It ain’t that bad.” Ash tells him. “It looks worse than it is.”

“I… it does?”

Ash nods.

“Y-yeah, but I feel kinda’ f-fucked up. I should probably ge… get this cleaned, but I don’t know if I can walk no more.”

“O-okay. You… you want me to do somethin’?” 

Ash bites hard on his lip, reachin’ into the pocket inside his coat and pullin’ out a buncha’ bills.

“H-here, can… can you go get some stuff at a drug store and bring it back here? Just some antise-septic and some bandages or somethin’?”

Alex nods, takin’ the crumpled bills from Ash’s hand.

“Yeah. Will… will you be alright here? I don’t think Arthur and his crew are gonna’ come after us, but… I don’t know either. After what you did. I can’t believe how fuckin’ cool you were!”

Ash shakes his head. He wasn’t cool. He don’t know why Alex kept sayin’ shit like that.

“I’ll be fine. I just gotta rest for a little while.”

“Al-alright. I’ll try and be fast.”

Ash nods.

Alex starts to straighten, when Ash suddenly remembers, and he reaches out, grabbin’ hold ‘a the older boys wrist.

“Wh… where’d you tell the others to go?” 

Alex smiles.

“I told Kong and Bones to take Sam home. There’s a long way ‘round from the direction we was takin’. They’d be there by now.”

Ash slumps back against the brick, relief washin’ through him. He nods, lettin’ go of Alex’s wrist.

“Okay.”

Alex nods back at him, and then he’s up on his feet.

“I’ll be back fast as I can!” 

He turns, and Ash watches him run. Keeps his eyes on him ‘till the older boy is outta sight, and finally he looks away, his head fallin’ back against the wall, his gaze rollin’ up to the sky. There’s clouds movin’ in, startin’ to blot out the sun, the air heavy with the smell ‘a snow. 

Ash lets his eyes slip closed, his hand pressed against the gash, bleedin’ sluggish and steady. 

There was a storm comin’.

It was gonna’ be cold tonight.


	27. Chapter 27

Ash spends the next couple days at Alex’s. The cut Arthur’d given him really hadn’t been all that bad. A few butterfly bandages had been enough to take care of it. The cut on his arm had actually been worse. Alex’d been convinced he was dyin’ or somethin’ though, scared he was gonna’ bleed out on the streets if he left him. Ash’d tried to tell him he was fine and that he didn’t need no place to stay, but the older boy had insisted, and Ash was fudging anyhow. He didn’t have nowhere else, ‘cept the shelters, or if he was willin’ to spend some cash on a hotel room, which he wasn’t, ‘cause he was already too low on money. And with the storm that was comin’, he knew it would be nothin’ but stupid to turn down the offer. So he stayed at Alex’s. 

It was weird with Samantha though, ‘cause now she knew what Ash was.

He hadn’t wanted her to know exactly ‘cause he knew it would freak her out. 

She hasn’t said nothin’ to him hardly in the last two days, but she keeps starin’ at him when she thinks he ain’t lookin’, eyes big and scared. He guesses she must see what he really is now. She must see some kinda’ monster now, instead ‘a whatever it was she thought he was before.

It’s fine. It’s better this way. A girl like her didn’t need nothin’ in her life like him. 

He splits again after a while, the whole thing just too weird. And anyway, he needed to get working again. He don’t know when Dino’s gonna send for him, but it’s gonna be soon, and Ash knows if he ain’t got enough cash from whorin’, Dino’s gonna be pissed, and he don’t even wanna think about what’ll happen then.

He takes in a pretty good haul over the next few days, even if he ain’t got much choice but to let his John’s fuck him. 

The girls are happy to see him, anyhow, and he asks after how they’ve been.

Most of ‘em have gotten some kinda’ protection now, after what happened to Suzy, and Ash is glad to see that. He tells ‘em he’ll show ‘em how to use their guns, if they want lessons, and a couple of ‘em actually take him up on it.

They look at him all funny, he guesses ‘cause he’s a little kid, and little kid’s ain’t supposed to know how to handle guns. But little kid’s ain’t supposed to be workin’ as prostitutes neither, so he don’t know what the big deal is. 

He shows ‘em the basics, how to load and unload, depending on whether it’s got a magazine or a barrel, how the safety works, how to hold it when they aim and shoot. He tells ‘em not to limp wrist it, or they’ll hurt themselves, and shows ‘em how to avoid it. He tells ‘em that if they gotta kill someone to save their own lives, that’s okay, but that they should try aimin’ for some place nonlethal, like the leg or arm or somethin’. He knows what it does to a person, when they kill someone for the first time, and he don’t want none of the girls to have to go through that.

Some of ‘em have only got cans of mace, and Ash tells ‘em that’s fine too, but they gotta’ get the fuckers right in the eyes. He tells ‘em they can’t be gentle on the nozzle, don’t hesitate, to put all their strength into sprayin’ that shit in the face of any John who gets too rough.

He’s been out here five nights in a row now, pullin’ in close to a hundred a night, so he’s got a pretty good stash goin’. It’s fuckin’ hell, but it’s all he’s got, and at least Dino won’t be able to say he ain’t makin’ nothin’.

It’s gettin’ pretty late now. He’s already made around 90 bucks tonight, which was plenty, and it was blistering fuckin’ cold out, so he’s thinkin’ of heading back to the room he’d rented earlier, when one of the girls comes walkin’ up to him, callin’ out his name.

“Ash, honey, there’s a girl here says she’s lookin’ for you. Looks around your age. Maybe a little older?”

Ash blinks up at Caroline, his brain not really understanding what she’s sayin’ for a minute.

“A girl?”

Wasn’t never any girls lookin’ for him, especially anyone his age…

And then it comes to him like a fuckin’ flashbang, and his heart crashes down to his stomach.

Shit.

“Says her names Sam?” Caroline goes on, but Ash already knows, and his heart’s slammin’ against his chest, somethin’ like horror in his throat.

“Where is she?” He asks, and the question comes out harsher than he means it to, but Samantha can’t be here. She can’t be _here_ , this late at night, or any time.

Caroline points him in the right direction, halfway down the block, towards the subways, and Ash barely gets out a thank you before he takes off runnin’.

What the fuck was with this girl? Was she fuckin’ retarded or somethin’? What the hell was she doin’, hangin’ around Times Square at two in the fuckin’ morning? Didn’t she know how dangerous this damned place was?

If Alex found out, he was gonna’ lose his fuckin’ mind. If he didn’t know already.

When he finally spots her, for a moment, he’s frozen, his breath catchin’ in his throat and fear turnin’ his stomach.

One of them mother fuckin’ pimps is talkin’ to her. Marcus or whatever the fuck his name is. He’s got her backed up against a wall, crowdin’ her in, leanin’ down in her face. She looks fuckin’ terrified.

Ash don’t stay frozen for long, a low growl in his throat as he pulls his pistol from the band of his jeans, cocking the hammer back and liftin’ his arm, stridin’ right for ‘em.

“Get the _fuck_ away from her Marcus!” He half-shouts. Loud enough for the bastard to hear him over the din of the area. 

The fuck half startles away from her, whippin’ around, eyes wide and white behind those stupid sunglasses he was always wearin’. 

The scared look on his face turns to a grin when he sees who it is.

“Ash, my man, what’s the problem? I was just talkin’ to this sweet young thing here. No biggie. I was thinkin’ maybe you’s about to have some company. It’s gotta’ be lonely, don’t it, you’s bein’ the only little kid workin’ this block? I’m just tryin’ to help ya out, man…”

“Back the fuck up asshole!” Ash snaps, and he does when Ash sticks the barrel of his gun right in the fuckers gut, his hands goin’ up in surrender.

“Okay, okay man! Jesus, you ain’t gotta’ be like that!”

“The hell I don’t, fucker! Don’t you fuckin’ get near her!”

He keeps his gun trained on the shithead, his eyes on him as he moves to Sam, grabbin’ hold of her by the wrist.

He can feel her shakin’, hard, and he glances at her a moment, sees her starin’ back at him, eyes blown wide with fear.

“Come on.” He tells her, turning his eyes back to Marcus. “Don’t fuckin’ follow us.” He spits, and then he’s tugging Alex’s sister after him, down the block, away from the Deuce. 

“A-Ash…? Ash, c… can you slow down?” Samantha’s voice stutters behind him after about a minute, and Ash realizes how fast he’s movin’. That he’s been pullin’ her behind him without even lookin’ at her this whole time, nothin’ in his mind but that he had to get her the hell away from that place.

But her voice behind him sounds scared, and he remembers her wide eyed stare back there on 42nd, and that she’s just a little girl, and thinks what a fuckin’ asshole he’s being.

He slows his stride and finally stops, turning to look at her. He doesn’t let go of her wrist. 

He notices for the first time she’s bundled up in the same coat he gave her, back when he went to Alex’s place that time after Dino finally let him go. Even with it on, she looks cold.

He shakes his head, not understanding what the hell it is she was even doin’ out here this late at night, so far from home. 

The question comes out meaner soundin’ than he wants.

“What’re you doin’ out here, huh? Are you fuckin’ stupid or somethin’? This place is too damned dangerous for a kid like you!”

Samantha looks back at him, her big eyes suddenly wet with tears, and Ash grits his teeth. Aw, shit, what a fuckin’ jerk he was.

He sighs, shaking his head.

“Look, it don’t matter I guess, but we gotta’ get you back home now. We can take the subway…”

“I came to talk to you!” Samantha interrupts him suddenly.

Ash blinks, staring up at her, stopped by the desperation in her voice. 

He shakes his head after a moment.

“Okay, well, if you wanna’ talk to me, we can talk on the train, but we gotta’ get you home. Does Alex even know you’re gone?”

“… N-no.” She admits, her voice uncertain. “I snuck out. He… he wouldn’t have let me go otherwise!”

“No fuckin’ shit. You know how many people get killed out here each night? You’re just a kid…”

“So are you!” She snaps, and Ash feels his own eyes go big, his voice dyin’ in his throat. “Y-you’re a whole year younger than I am!” She presses, insistent.

Ash feels his face twist into a scowl.

“Big fuckin’ deal! I’m used to it out here! This is my life! You ain’t got no business bein’ out here on the streets like this! You’d have to be crazy to be wanderin’ around out here at night if you didn’t gotta’ be!”

He watches as her lip trembles, and then the tears in her eyes slip free, down her face, and Ash nearly growls in frustration.

He don’t know what to do. He didn’t mean to make her cry, but this whole situation was fucked up. It was fuckin’ his night up, and he keeps thinkin’ about if Alex wakes up or walks in to his apartment and finds his little sister missin’, how he’s gonna’ freak the hell out. He’s gotta’ get her home.

“Come on, don’t cry.” He tries. “I… I’m sorry for yellin’ at you. It’s just it’s dangerous out here. I don’t want you gettin’ yourself killed just ‘cause you wanted to talk to me. Alright?”

The thought of it alone makes Ash’s stomach turn, sick and awful. There’s sudden fear in his throat, a terrible realization. If this girl got herself killed ‘cause of him, he wouldn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t know what to do. God…

“I… I wanted to talk to you.” Samantha says again, reaching up and wiping at her eyes. “I wanted to say I was sorry for… for ignoring you, when you were staying over at our place those last couple days.”

Ash feels his heart sink.

“You don’t gotta’ apologize for that.”

“I do!” She insists. “It was mean of me! Just… just because of what that jerk said about you! I let it bother me, and I shouldn’t have! I… I don’t care if you’re a prostitute, or whatever!”

Again, Ash sighs, shakin’ his head. 

He can’t believe this girl. He can’t believe she came all the way out here to one of the most dangerous parts of the city, in the middle of the fuckin’ night, just to say she was sorry for not wanting to talk to him ‘cause she found out he was a whore. 

It wasn’t like that wasn’t the right reaction for any normal kinda’ person.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get you home…”

“Can’t I stay with you tonight?” Samantha again talks over him, and suddenly she reaches out, grabbing hold of his hand.

Ash don’t mean to react like he does, jerkin’ back and pullin’ outta’ her grasp like she’d burned him. He tries to ignore the hurt look on her face.

“You can’t stay with me.” He tells her. “How you even know I got any place to stay? I’m homeless, remember?”

“B… but, you must have some place you’re staying tonight?” She argues weakly. “It’s so cold out here. You must have some place.”

Ash frowns. This whole situation was already more outta’ control than he wanted it to be. 

He _did_ have a place. Just around the corner from here. It was closer than the subway station even, and, if he was bein’ honest with himself, it would actually probably be safer, just takin’ Samantha there for the rest of the night than boarding a subway car past two in the morning, tryin’ to get her back to the Bronx. He was carryin’ cash too, which made it even more dangerous.

But he still had to let Alex know what was goin’ on. 

He guesses he could use the phone in the lobby or whatever. Call Alex’s apartment and let him know his idiot sister was with him, but they were stayin’ at a hotel, and he’d keep her safe ‘till he could get her back home in the morning. 

He hoped Alex wouldn’t be mad at him or nothin’.

“… Alright, fine.” He breathes. He can’t keep the annoyance outta’ his voice, but he don’t really care neither. “I gotta’ hotel room just around the corner. I guess it’s safer just hangin’ there. People get fuckin’ mugged all the time on the subways, this time ‘a night.”

He hates the way Samantha’s face lights up when he says it, like this was some big fuckin’ adventure. This girl really didn’t have a damn clue ‘bout how the world worked. 

“I’m callin’ your brother when we get there though and tellin’ him where you are. He’s gonna’ be freaked out if he finds you missin’ and not knowin’ where you’re at.”

“Oh… d-do you have to? He’ll be really made if he finds out I snuck out of the apartment.”

“Yes, I have to.” Ash snaps. “This isn’t a fuckin’ game, alright? I don’t want you to ever do anything this damned stupid again!”

The girl looks ashamed, wiping at the tears still runnin’ down her face.

“I… I’m sorry.” She says, her voice small.

“Stop apologizin’ already. Let’s just go…” Ash reaches out his hand for her, and she blinks down at it for a moment before a weak smile curls at her lips and she reaches back. 

Her hand is cold in his, her skin soft and smooth like a baby’s. It’s a weird feelin’. His own hands were rough with callouses from handlin’ his gun so much. That and other shit. He wasn’t used to feelin’ skin like hers. 

All the skin he was used to feelin’ was hard and old and covered in fuckin’ hair. 

Bile burns in his throat, and he shoves the thoughts away, focusing instead on pullin’ Samantha behind him, toward the hotel.

//

Alex had been pissed, but not as Ash. 

Ash tried tellin’ him he was sorry, but the older boy kept sayin’ it wasn’t his fault, and kept thankin’ him for taking care of his sister. Ash didn’t get why he was thankin’ him, considering it was his fault she came out here in the first place. But he didn’t try arguing neither. He promised he’d have her home by 9 or 10 in the morning and then he’d gotten off.

He was weirdly relieved Alex wasn’t mad at him. He thought he would be.

He’d left Samantha in his room to go make the call, and when he gets back, he finds her sittin’ on the single mattress, her hands clasped in her lap, her heels kickin’ against the bed frame. She looks up when he walks in and closes the door behind him, bolting it shut. 

“Was he angry?” She asks, her voice scared soundin’.

Ash shrugs, peelin’ off his jacket and tossing it on the chest of drawers next to the door.

“Yeah. But it’s just ‘cause he’s worried about you.”

She looks at him with this pitiful look on her face, and Ash wishes she wouldn’t.

“… Are you mad at me too?” She asks.

Ash huffs, movin’ closer. He sits down on the foot of the bed, his back to her.

“Kinda’.” He tells her honestly. “You coulda’ gotten really hurt out there. Don’t you get it?”

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes again. “I know. I just… I really wanted to see you.”

“Why?” He finally turns and looks at her. “You know what I am now. Why do you even wanna’ know me anymore?”

She looks at him, and her mouth goes up in a small smile.

“… Because I like you.” She says softly. “And I felt bad.”

Ash don’t know what to say to this girl anymore. He’s told her over and over she shouldn’t like him. Shouldn’t want nothin’ to do with him. But she kept pushin’, and coming back, and actin’ like it didn’t matter to her that he was a God damned hooker.

She don’t understand. She don’t understand what that means. What he is. What it is he _does_.

He thinks if she did, maybe she’d finally get some sense through that brain of hers and stop tryin’ to hang around him.

“You don’t gotta’ feel bad for me, okay?” He says, ‘cause he don’t know what else to say. “I’m not worth it.”

She don’t say nothin’ to that, but just keeps lookin’ at him, her eyes intent on his face, like she’s thinking.

Ash looks back at her for a moment before turning back around.

He reaches down, startin’ to untie the laces of his shoes and pull ‘em off.

“You can sleep on the bed.” He tells her. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“… Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“Ash…”

“What?” He tosses his shoes to the floor before turning to look at her.

She gets up on her knees suddenly, on the mattress, and Ash don’t even got time to wonder what she’s doin’ before she’s crawlin’ towards him and throwin’ her arms around his neck.

Ash gets out a half formed ‘what’ before she smashes her lips against his, kissing him hard.

Panic instantly closes up his throat and he jerks backward, but she don’t let go, moving up ‘till she’s straddling his lap, and Ash gasps, trying to pull away. He pulls so hard he goes tumbling off the mattress, crashing to the floor. He lands hard on his back, Samantha still on top of him.

She don’t even seem to notice that they’ve fallen off the bed, her arms still hooked around him as she leans down, tryin’ to kiss him again, and Ash’s panic explodes in his chest.

“ _Don’t_!” He cries, and he reaches up, shovin’ hard against her chest, desperate to get her off him. 

He can’t breathe. He feels like he can’t breathe. Oh, God, he can’t get no air in his lungs, harsh, frantic gasps filling his ears as he tries. 

He shoves her hard again. Hard enough to make her sit back finally. She blinks down at him, a confused frown pulling at her lips.

Ash is staring back up at her, his eyes wide. His heart’s slammin’ in his chest, hands shaking where they hang halfway between them.

“Ash? What… what’s the matter? I thought… I mean… a-aren’t you… experienced… in this kind of thing?”

His eyes burn viciously, and suddenly his vision blurs.

“Get offa’ me.” He tells her. His voice is shakin’ hard, thick and ugly.

“I… I’m sorry, I…”

“GET OFFA’ ME!” He screams at her, and he feels the warm wash of tears slip down his temples.

She startles back, falling back off him, and Ash bolts upright, up to his feet. He stumbles back away from her, staring at her. She’s looking up at him from the floor, her own eyes wide and frightened. 

Ash’s breaths are heavy and loud in his ears, wheezing pulls, and he’s gonna’ be sick. He’s gonna’ be sick.

“Fuck…” he gasps, and a loud, broken sob breaks past his teeth, horrible sounding in the silence of the room.

He turns away from her and runs for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him just as his legs give out, and he falls to the floor.

He brings his hand up, sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of his palm, biting hard as more, ugly sobs lodge in his throat and try to push past. His body trembles uncontrollably, and he tears at his hair with his other hand, ripping at his scalp. The pain feels good. It feels better than the rest of it.

There’s a knock at the door, and Samantha’s voice drifts through the cheap wood.

“Ash?! Ash, I’m sorry! Are… are you okay? Are you alright?”

No, he thinks. No, he isn’t alright. 

She keeps knocking, and Ash squeezes his eyes shut, wet warmth down his cheeks, biting hard into his hand until he tastes blood.

There’s white noise booming in his brain, and the sound of her knocking fades away ‘till it don’t even exist. Just the noise in his brain, screaming and screaming and _screaming_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I hope nobody is too harsh on Sam. Remember she's just a 14 year old girl and she really has no concept of what Ash has been through.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, this chapter has a lot of warnings on it. Please mind the tags, because they all apply here. Things get pretty uncomfortable. But then, this whole story deals in that I suppose. Once again, thank you so much all of you for sticking with this. You guys are the reason I continue to write.

Samantha gives up tryin’ to get him to open the door after maybe half an hour, and he presses his ear against the door, listening for her, thinkin’ she musta’ finally gone to sleep when he don’t hear nothin’ after a long while. 

He still ain’t able to bring himself to go back out into the room, some kinda’ sick fear keeping him rooted to the spot, not understanding why he’d even reacted the way he had. 

She was just a girl, barely older than him. He shouldn’t of freaked out so bad, just ‘cause she tried to kiss him. But when she’d grabbed holda’ him like that, and then fell on top of him, the same kinda’ helpless panic had taken hold. The same he felt when some fat, hairy bastard got on top of him like that and held him down, and he couldn’t do nothin’ to get ‘em off. 

He’d tried pushin’ her off, but he hadn’t been able to, and thinkin’ of it made him feel ashamed and embarrassed. 

Why’d she… why’d she have to go and do that even? Why’d she have to try and kiss him like that? Why’d she havta? 

He liked her. He thought she was real nice and sweet, and he guesses she was cute, even though he don’t even really know what that means, and he don’t wanna’ do anything like have sex with her. But he liked talkin’ to her and all. He liked hanging out with her. Besides Alex, Bones and Kong, he hadn’t never really just hung out with no one his own age. And Samantha was different than those guys, ‘cause she wasn’t a street punk. She wasn’t part of that life. So it was different with her. He gotta’ different feelin’, talkin’ to her than talkin’ to the other guys. 

But now she’d had to go ahead and ruin it.

He was usually real good at reading people too. He could always tell when someone wanted to fuck him or put their hands on him or whatever. But he hadn’t thought she’d go ahead and do that, even though he’d been able to tell she was into him. He just hadn’t thought she’d do that. But she had, and now he don’t know what to think of her. 

She’d had that look in her eyes too. That blown pupil look he always saw in his John’s eyes. Or whoever when they thought they could do whatever the fuck they wanted to him. She wasn’t even thinkin’. Just knew she wanted to put her mouth on his and kiss him. 

It made him angry. It made him so fuckin’ _pissed_. How come everyone was like this? How come everyone always saw him like he wasn’t nothin’ but a fuckin’ toy for them to play with? What… what the hell was wrong with him, that that’s all anyone ever saw him as? 

Thinkin’ about it’s got his eyes burnin’ again with tears, his throat tight, and he drags his knees up to his chest, burying his face against ‘em.

He didn’t wanna’ keep crying like this. Wasn’t no good. But he can’t help it. 

He don’t know why he keeps doin’ this to himself. Why he keeps hoping it’ll somehow be different. That someone’ll somehow see him as something else.

Guesses he never shoulda’ hoped there could be someone like that. Not with him bein’ what he was. Not when everyone could see what he was.

Wasn’t nobody that’d want a worthless whore like him for nothin’ but that. Shoulda’ known better than to hope. 

Stupid. He was so stupid. 

Didn’t matter anyway, he guesses. Wasn’t no point in even being upset.

His teeth grit together, willing the tears the stop as he wipes the back of his hand against his nose and uncurls his legs from his chest, lying down on the hard, cold tile of the bathroom. He lays his arms over his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

He’ll take Samantha back to Alex’s in a few hours like he promised he would, and that’d be it. He wouldn’t hang around her no more. Wouldn’t hang around Alex much either, ‘cept he guesses to do runs for Dino or whatever else.

It was better that way anyhow. 

Didn’t nobody need a freakshow like him in their lives. Alex and his family were good people, and they didn’t need him fuckin’ shit up for them, bringing his fucked up life into theirs. 

He musta’ been a bad person, he guesses, for even thinking it would be alright in the first place.

//

Samantha keeps tryin’ to talk to him when morning finally comes and he starts back to Alex’s place with her, but he don’t answer her back ‘cept to say she shouldn’t worry about it. 

He feels bad. She keeps sayin’ how sorry she is, and Ash believes her, but he don’t know how to explain why he freaked out on her like he did, and he don’t wanna try. He thinks he’ll only fuck things up worse if he does, make things worse for her. Only make her feel shittier, if he tries to explain. So he keeps his mouth shut, and eventually she gives up tryin’ to get him to talk.

They make it back to her apartment building easy enough. Samantha stands a little behind him when they make it to her unit, and Ash can feel the tension comin’ off her. She’s scared. He guesses he can’t blame her.

Alex is at the door barely a moment after Ash knocks, and he’s pissed. He grabs his sister by the wrist, dragging her into the apartment, tellin’ her he’ll deal with her in a minute, before he turns back to Ash. He starts apologizing, and Ash don’t get why. He shakes his head, telling the older boy that it wasn’t a big deal. Alex tries to invite him to stay, and Ash tells him no, he’s gotta split. He don’t say nothin’ when Alex tells him he can crash at his place whenever, just tells him again he’s gotta go, and so then he does.

He don’t say nothin’ about how he don’t plan on comin’ back at all. Alex would just try to convince him otherwise, and Ash just ain’t got the energy to deal with all that. 

It’s all the same anyhow.

Marvin comes to find him late that evening.

He’s back at Dino’s before midnight.

//

Dino’s hand in his hair is hard and violent, his fingers curling and scraping against his scalp, tearing at the strands to move Ash how he wants. He pushes with the flat of his palm against his crown, telling him to swallow more of him, and Ash knows better than to try and push back. Knows it would be pointless anyway. Dino was strong. Stronger than he could struggle against.

Dino is quiet as Ash sucks him off, the only sounds in the room the wet smack of lips against flesh as Ash takes his penis as far back into his throat as he can, pulling back and swallowing again. It’s obscene and horrible, and Ash tries to ignore it. He almost wishes Dino would make some kinda’ noise, just so he wouldn’t have to hear the disgusting noises. But Dino never made no noise when he got sucked off like this. He was always quiet. 

The salty bitterness of Dino’s precum washes over his tongue, and the fingers in his hair curl tighter, palm pressing down harder.

“That’s good, boy. Yes, just like that.” Dino’s voice comes out breathy, but still even and controlled, like it always is.

The only warning Ash gets is he can feel Dino stiffen suddenly, and a second later, he’s blowin’ his load down Ash’s throat.

Ash scrambles to swallow it down. It’s nasty and sick, but he’s used to it too, and hardly tastes it anymore. He’s thinkin’ more of how mad Dino’ll get, if he lets any of it drip onto the carpet. 

Dino’s hips snap forward a couple times, and then his fingers pull hard against Ash’s hair, shovin’ him back, away from him. Ash falls backward from the force, onto his backside, just barely catchin’ himself on his hands.

Dino don’t say nothin’. He looks down at Ash, face impassive and eyes dead, like he’s lookin’ at somethin’ not worth any kinda’ interest, and Ash looks away.

He’s naked, and he’s gotta force himself to sit still under Dino’s gaze, the urge to cover himself up almost overwhelming. He knew the rules. Knew he wasn’t allowed to do nothin’ like get dressed ‘till Papa told him he could.

Finally, Papa moves, puttin’ his dick back inside his shorts and doin’ up his pants. Ash keeps his eyes fixed to the floor, and don’t catch it when Papa flings a box ‘a tissues at him. The cardboard container hits him right in the face, and Ash flinches back, hard, fallin’ over onto his back.

“Clean yourself up.” Dino says. “You’ve got come all over your face.”

Ash knows better than to say nothin’, just takes up the box ‘a tissues. His hands shake a little as he wipes at his mouth and chin.

“You need to take a shower.” Papa continues, the drag of him picking up his Rolex from the nightstand filling Ash’s ears. “Your lessons begin at eight, in the Sunroom. I’ve had to hire on a new math tutor for you. Mr. Feinstein quit last week. He claimed you were belligerent and didn’t take your lessons seriously.”

Ash stills, his frame goin’ stiff. He can feel Papa’s eyes on him, watching him close.

“Of course, we both know that isn’t true, don’t we Ash? Not the reason behind his resignation, at least. You are a stubborn, vicious boy, but I imagine it was simply too much to bear for the man’s ego, having his work constantly corrected by a 13 year old _child_. A professor of mathematics, employed by no less than MIT, and a 13 year old street urchin makes him look in the very least incompetent.”

Dino steps closer, until he’s right on top of Ash. Ash keeps still when he reaches down, his powerful hand takin’ hold of his jaw, tilting his face up so that he’s forced to look at him.

“Oh, but you are a _marvelous_ thing Ash. Who ever could have known so brilliant a mind lay behind so beautiful a face? I must admit, even I was at first fooled. After all, isn’t it true, nature gives beauty, only to take from the intellect? It’s only fair, of course. One should never have too much of everything. It was simple logic, given your beauty, to assume you must have naught but an empty void of boundless stupidity behind that perfect façade. But not you Ash. No, nature saw fit to bless you in so _many_ ways, didn’t she? One has only to look into those eyes of yours to see the truth of it. Those burning, jade eyes. Truly, yours is the finest mind I’ve ever known. Oh, you’re far from perfection, unsophisticated, brutish little rat that you are. How constantly you expose yourself for the white trash you spawned from. Your lack of breeding is embarrassing and _disgusting_. But in time, those rough edges will be polished smooth, and then, my little treasure, what is there to stop you? Truly then, you’ll be as perfect as the purest jewel. Something at last to make me _proud_.”

Ash blinks, his vision blurred, and Dino smirks at him. He leans down, and Ash holds still at the press of lips hard against his mouth, lets his lips fall apart, and Dino’s tongue pushes past his teeth, down his throat. 

Ash feels the warmth of tears slip free, down his temples, and he kisses Dino back.

It lasts too long. It always lasts too long. Dino’s thick fingers dig hard into the flesh of his jaw, holding him still, until finally he pulls away. He looks down at Ash, his pupils blown wide with lust. He smiles, licking his lips, his hand at last letting go.

“You may use the lavatory in my room, but be quick about it. I’ll have a fresh set of clothes brought in and left for you.” He says, stepping back. “I’ve also had to acquire you a new French tutor, since I was forced to terminate the last. Ash, I won’t continue to tolerate your whorish behavior with your teachers. It’s becoming bothersome. You understand? You should display a better control over your more unfortunate tendencies. You may act like a low-class slut out there on the streets, but under this roof, more is expected of you. Yes?”

Ash almost snaps back that it ain’t his fault. Almost tells Dino that all them tutors he got fired was ‘cause they were fuckin’ freaked out pervs already, wasn’t nothin’ he did to make ‘em like that. They was always touchin’ on him and grabbin’ at him like they shouldn’t be to begin with. It always started the same way too, with all of ‘em. Like his fuckin’ French teacher, last time he’d been here, the bastard had started out puttin’ his arm ‘round Ash’s shoulders, and inevitably, over the next couple days, it’d found its way down to his pectoral muscles, his fat fuckin’ fingers kneadin’ and massagin’ him through his shirt. After that, it only took another day ‘fore he was runnin’ his hand down to his waist, squeezin’ on the swell of his ass before slippin’ his grimy fingers up under the hem of his shirt and pinchin’ at his nipple.

They all started out that way. Grabbin’ him somewhere, tryin’ to act like they was bein’ subtle about it. Their hand always found its way to his thigh, or his ass, or his crotch. 

Ash always knew if it went on, if he let it go on, eventually they’d get so bold they’d just straight up rape him. That’s how it went. They’d shove him into a closet somewhere, or take him to a bathroom where there weren’t no cameras, and fuck him. Wasn’t nothin’ he could do if it got to that point. So Ash figured it was better just to get ‘em caught fast, and sacked, before it got that far. Least then he was sorta’ in control of the situation. Least then he could control the outcome. So he’d open up his legs a little, lick his lips and look at ‘em with hooded eyes, talk at ‘em in that breathy tone ‘a voice he knew got clients all hot and bothered. Sometimes he’d let his hand run up and down his stomach, play with his nipples a little. They always took the bait, jumpin’ on him like a dog on a fuckin’ bone, tryin’ to tear his clothes off right out in the open. There was always guards around, and they’d step in and stop it, when it was obvious like that what was goin’ on. Dino didn’t like his property bein’ touched. Not without his permission, and not without compensation. It always got the fuckers fired. 

Dino acted like it was Ash’s fault, like he was just bein’ a slut on purpose and seducin’ these pervs just for the hell of it, but that wasn’t what was happenin’. Dino knew it too, Ash thinks. He just liked to have an excuse to punish him, or scold him and remind him again ‘bout what a little whore he was. 

Ash knows better than to question Dino’s words though. He’d just get a hand across the mouth if he does, so he bites the inside of his cheek hard to keep from sayin’ nothin’. Just nods.

Dino smiles at him, patting his cheek like a fuckin’ puppy.

“Good boy. Now hurry along.”

“… Yes Papa.” He whispers, pushing himself to his feet.

He can feel Dino’s eyes on him as he turns, heading for the bathroom. He tries to ignore it. Keeps his head down and just keeps moving.

//

He makes it through his afternoon lessons without nothin’ weird happening, which he guesses is good. It’s all boring as hell anyway. He wasn’t learnin’ nothin’ he couldn’t figure out on his own, or hadn’t already. His tutors thought they knew everything, but half the shit they said was wrong, and when he tried pointin’ that out, they got all fuckin’ pissed and shit, like he did something horrible, yellin’ at him to keep his trap shut, or cuffin’ his ear. Fuckin’ adults always thought they were right about everything, and then when you showed ‘em they wasn’t, it was like they couldn’t handle it. Like their whole world view had been destroyed or some silly shit. They were such idiots.

Dino shows up after his final lesson of the day, wanting to play chess.

He _asks_ if he wants to play, as if Ash has got any choice. Dino liked to do that too. Liked to give the pretense of Ash havin’ a choice. It was just another twisted game he played to get him off.

Ash’d actually said no once, just to see what would happen.

Dino’s eyes had turned black with rage, he remembers, and that was all Ash’d seen before the back of Dino’s hand had gone across his mouth, so hard Ash had blacked out. 

When he’d finally come to, Dino had been standing over him, his face back to bein’ cool and calm, and he’d looked at Ash like he wasn’t nothin’ but a gnat, actin’ like nothin’ had even happened. 

Ash hadn’t made the same mistake again.

Dino was good at chess. He was better at it than Ash. A couple times, Ash’d come close to beating him. ‘Least, he thought he had. But Dino always out-manuvoured him, and he liked to rub it in Ash’s face, explaining about how it showed Ash’s lack of forethought or strategic thinking. He liked to say it was a sign of “shallow creativity”. 

Ash didn’t never argue. There wasn’t no point, and anyway, Dino was right, probably. Ash was good at numbers and shit. That didn’t translate to chess though, or anything that you needed a good imagination for. 

Ash never thought he had much of an imagination. Sometimes, his head felt as empty as a pit without a bottom. 

There just wasn’t nothin’ there. Nothin’ worth shit. 

… He remembers sittin’ with Griff out on the back porch of their house durin’ the evenings, back in Cape Cod, and how Griff’d read his poems to him out loud. Griff’d had such a steady, even voice, real soft and deep, and Ash’d used to fall asleep against his chest, just listening to him.

He remembers thinkin’ how amazing his brother was, that he could write stuff like he did. That he could express himself like that, in such a beautiful way. He remembers thinkin’ it was just like he knew everything Ash felt too, and somehow he knew how to put it in words. 

Ash knew better than that now, though. All that beautiful expression, that was all Griff. Ash’d just been soakin’ up his brother’s glow. That was how Griff had been. Just bein’ around him could make you feel like you was better too.

But Ash didn’t have nothin’ beautiful in him. He never had. 

He knows that now. 

He shakes his head of the memories, following Dino across the room to where he’s got his fancy-ass chess board set up. Fuckin’ things got like real pearl inlays, and the pieces are made of fuckin’ marble or somethin’. They weigh a shitload, and Ash is always freaked out about scratchin’ the board. Dino got pissed as hell if you damaged any of his stuff, so he tries to be careful every time he makes a move.

Dino tells him to take the white, and Ash feels his stomach twist.

He hates when Dino made him open. It was supposed to be an advantage or whatever, so he always used it to lay another of his fucking lectures on him when he lost, and then expected him to remember all the shit he told him about chess openings and whatever else. If he couldn’t remember right, or got somethin’ wrong, Dino would punish him, like he always did. 

Ash couldn’t give a shit less about chess, or any other stupid fuckin’ game. He don’t know why Dino even thought he needed to know about this stuff. But it didn’t matter no how, Ash guesses, what Dino’s reasons were. Whatever he wanted Ash to do, that was… that was what…

“Well, Ash, are you going to arrange the pieces on the board, or are you just going to sit there like some slack-jawed baboon? You know well enough how I hate to have my time wasted…”

“I… I’m sorry, Papa.” Ash is quick to respond.

He almost knocks the pieces over, his hands shakin’ awful for a moment, before he forces ‘em still.

He can feel Dino’s eyes on him as he sets up the board. He doesn’t look back, tries to keep his focus on what he’s doing.

The games have started taking longer in the past six months, Ash guesses ‘cause he was getting better, and this one lasts a while before Dino finally checkmate’s him. Ash wishes it woulda’ ended sooner, but Dino would know if he tried throwin’ a game, and that sorta’ thing always pissed him off real bad.

But spendin’ time around Dino like this always fucked with his head. When Dino acted all friendly and sociable, and talked at Ash ‘bout normal shit, talked at him almost like he was his _son_. He’d ask about how his lessons went, what he’d learned about, about if he’d read any books he liked lately, or had any new interests. He asked, expectin’ real answers. Like he hadn’t forced Ash to swallow his cock that morning. Like he wasn’t gonna force Ash to have sex with him come bedtime. Like he wasn’t gonna get his rocks off makin’ Ash squirm and writhe and moan, ‘cause nothin’ made Dino harder than knowin’ he could get Ash hard. That he could make Ash feel pleasure, even when his brain screamed no, no, no.

“ _Ash_ …”

His mind snaps away, his eyes moving up to see Dino staring down at him, his mouth twisted into an annoyed frown.

“Are you listening to me, child?”

Shit… shit, shit, shit… he’d spaced and hadn’t heard…

“Uhhh…”

It’s all he gets out before Dino’s hand slaps hard across the face.

“Idiot. You _listen_ when I speak, boy. Is that understood?”

Ash bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself to keep from reachin’ for his face where the impact of Dino’s palm still burns and stings against the skin.

He nods, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“You may have the rest of the afternoon to yourself. Dinner is at six. I expect you cleaned, dressed and in the dining room before then. Don’t make the mistake of being late, Ash, or I promise, you won’t enjoy the consequences.”

“… Yes, Papa.” Ash whispers. His eyes sting, and he blinks rapidly against it.

Dino stares down at him a moment longer, before finally he turns, walking from the room without another word.

//

Ash spends the rest of the afternoon holed up in his room, reading and drawing doodles on a notepad he usually used for his tutoring. The most he could manage was stick figures, and even those looked cruder to him than what he imagined the average person was capable of. 

He stops halfway through one when he realizes he’s drawing a person down on their knees, suckin’ another person off. He drops the pencil in his hand and rears back, eyes wide, horror in the pit of his stomach. 

What the fuck… what the fuck was wrong with him?

He… he gets off the streets and don’t have to think about where he’s gonna stay for the night, or where he’s gonna get food, and this… this is what he starts thinkin’ about?

His eyes burn, and suddenly the images on the paper smear and blur, and he realizes there’s tears runnin’ down his face, splattering onto the notebook.

He reaches down, curling his finger over the paper, tearin’ it up out of the book and crumpling it in his hand. 

It don’t make the awful, sudden suffocation in his chest go away, though, and his hands shake as he tears at the wadded up ball, ripping it to pieces.

He screams as he winds his arm back and throws the paper hard as he can from where he’s lyin’ on his bed, the torn pieces fluttering only inches over the edge, swirling in a slow pattern down to the carpeted floor. 

Somethin’ about the sight of it makes the tightness in his chest worse, his throat closing up with it, and he can’t breathe.

A feeling like helplessness washes hard over him, and a low whine slips from his throat, and suddenly he’s crying. Hard. Stupid, loud sobs which he tries to muffle, pressing his face against the mattress, biting down on the silk comforter.

He don’t even know why he’s crying. Why he feels like this.

Everything was just so fucked up.

 _He_ was so fucked up.

His hands reach up, tangling in his hair, and he tears at it, tryin’ to focus on the pain in his scalp.

He needed to calm the fuck down. Wasn’t no good crying like this. Wasn’t gonna’ solve nothin’.

Eventually he wears himself out, his head poundin’ with a fresh headache, and the helplessness turns into a wave of exhaustion.

He don’t know when it is he falls asleep, but he wakes with a start, shooting upright from where he’s still laid out on his bed, eyes wide and a sharp gasp caught in his throat.

What… what time was it?

Last time he looked, the sun was still high in the sky outside the windows. Maybe about 2:30 or 3:00. But it’s sunk almost all the way behind the horizon now, the sky a dark, almost black blue. It’s gotta be more like 5:00 or 5:30 now.

Shit…

Shit, shit, shit…

Panic threatens to choke him for a second, but Ash shoves is viciously down, throwin’ himself from the bed.

There wasn’t no time to take a shower, like Dino wanted him to. But maybe if he just splashed water on his face and hair and slicked it back with a comb, he could fool him into thinking he had.

Fuck…

He don’t have time to worry over it. Dino said he had to be in the dinning room before six.

He remembers the clock on his nightstand suddenly, glancing at it. It reads 5:45.

Ash runs for the bathroom, tryin’ to put the fear outta’ his mind.

He’d left his tux in there earlier, hangin’ on the bathroom door, and feels almost sick with relief at the sight of it now, tearin’ outta’ the clothes he has on.

It only takes him half a minute to get the monkey suit on, wet his hair and comb it back. He fumbles with the God damned bow tie ‘cause his hands are shakin’, havin’ to start and restart a couple times before he gets the thing done up right.

He sprays some of that nasty, French cologne Dino liked him to wear on himself, and then he’s out the bedroom, havin’ to force himself to walk to the dining room instead of run.

He sees on the big grandfather clock just outside that he’s made it with hardly a minute to spare, and he feels the blood drain outta’ his face as he pushes the doorway open and sees Dino already sat at the head of the table, waiting.

Dino’s black eyes regard him for a long moment, and Ash stands frozen inside the doorway. His hands fall to his sides, curling to fists, nails biting into his palms.

He feels dizzy when Dino looks away from him, reaching down to his waistcoat and taking out his pocket watch to check the time.

He don’t say nothin’ for a long moment, and then he puts his watch back, his eyes sliding back up to look at Ash.

“I thought I told you to be here _before_ six.” He says, voice flat. “It’s just about six now, Ash.”

Ash struggles not to fidget where he stands, his face turning to the floor.

Dino scared him. Scared him worse than Marvin ever could, even. Marvin was a fuckin’ moron, but Dino wasn’t. Dino was smart. Really fuckin’ smart. Too smart to fool, most of the time. He could see when you were lyin’. And if he caught you lyin’, that was bad. That was really bad. So Ash usually tried to tell him the truth. ‘Least, he tried to tell him the truth about this kinda’ stuff.

“I’m sorry, Papa.” He starts, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “I… I fell asleep.”

“You fell asleep. Is that meant to be an excuse for your tardiness Ash, when I specifically instructed you to be here before six?”

Ash swallows, throat dry.

Dino was unpredictable too. Ash never knew if he was gonna’ let minor shit like this slide, or if he was gonna’ do somethin’ really bad as a punishment. Ash never really knew what Dino was gonna’ do to him at all.

“N-no, Papa. I was just… just explaining why I’m late. I… I know there ai… th-there isn’t an e-excuse.”

He can feel Dino’s eyes on him, heavy and critical, and Ash knows better than to look up.

“Indeed.” He finally says after what seems like forever. “Sit down, boy.”

Ash doesn’t say a word as he moves into the dining room, taking the seat just to Dino’s right, like he always wants Ash to do when it’s just the two of ‘em. 

There’s silence between ‘em for almost a whole minute, and then the door leading to the kitchens opens, and one of Dino’s staff comes out, holdin’ a plate in each hand.

Dino still don’t say nothin’ as the man sets their dishes down, or when he turns over their wine goblets and pops the cork on the bottle chilling in the cooler off to the side.

Ash keeps his eyes fixed on his hands, twisting the napkin in his lap.

Somethin’s comin’. He can tell. 

He closes his eyes, tryin’ to will his heart to slow down as it slams wildly inside his chest.

Only minutes more pass, and the only sound in the room is Dino’s fork and knife pulling against the china as he cuts up his stake, and the sound of him chewing and swallowing the meat down.

Ash knows Dino expects him to eat too, and he tries to keep his hands from shakin’ as he scoops half-heartedly at the side of vegetables. 

He stares down at the stake on his own plate. It’s red and bloody, and the thought of eating it makes Ash feel sick to his stomach.

“You didn’t shower.” 

It isn’t a question.

Ash feels himself go stiff, a shot of horror curling in his gut. His hand stills halfway to his mouth. It trembles, and the vegetables tumble off the spoon, hitting the wood of the table.

Dino tsks, and doesn’t say anything else. 

Ash swallows, daring to glance up at him. Dino isn’t looking at him, his own gaze fixed on his food, and Ash knows he ain’t supposed to say nothin’.

He goes back to eating his dinner, the lead in his gut growing heavier with each second past.

Dino don’t say nothin’ else to him the whole rest of the meal.

//

Dino makes him pay for bein’ late to dinner.

Makes him pay the worst way he knows how.

Wasn’t nothin’ worse for Ash. Dino knows it. Nothin’ worse than when his own fuckin’ body betrayed him like it was doin’ now. 

He’d made Ash strip naked soon as they were back in his bedroom, told him to get up on the bed and lye on his stomach.

He’d heard Dino pull open the drawer where he kept that warmed oil shit. Heard him unscrew the top, and the sound of his fingers squelching into the stuff as he’d scooped it up.

Ash had laid there, knowin’ what was comin’, and squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach turning with dread, wishin’ he could just die. He’d rather die then have this happen again. 

Dino’s fingers are inside him. 

He’d started slow. Not like most ‘a his John’s. They was always rough and fast, and Ash wanted it that way, ‘cause he wouldn’t let ‘em touch him like this in a million fuckin’ years. But Dino could touch him any way he wanted. And he knew how. He knew just how to touch Ash to make his body react. 

He’d started slow, pushin’ a single finger inside, slicked with oil, and Ash had pressed his face into the pillow, biting down hard on his lip to keep quiet when he’d felt the tip brush up against his prostate, and the jolt of pleasure which had uncurled in his gut. He’d started slow, so there wasn’t none of the pain Ash usually felt with Marvin, or Frog, or any of his John’s, until Ash was relaxed and open, and Dino’d pushed another finger inside.

He’s bringin’ Ash right to the edge now, and it feels so _good_. God… this isn’t what he wants. He doesn’t want this. God, God, _please_ … 

And then Dino strokes him harder. Ash can feel his fingers hook, massaging against his prostate now, and his brain suddenly shuts down, the screamin’ inside his head disappearing, nothin’ but blank, white noise and the feeling, and Ash _wants_ it. Oh… oh God, he wants it, and he don’t even realize he’s pushin’ back onto Dino’s hand until after, at the shot of warmth which spreads out from the pit of his stomach and into every part of him, right up into his gums. His mouth falls open, and he moans in pleasure because it feels so fuckin’ _good_ , and Dino laughs.

“You like that, do you boy?” He asks, his voice against Ash’s ear.

Ash wants to shake his head. Wants to tell him no. Fucking _no_. But all that comes outta’ his mouth is a low whine, his eyes squeezin’ shut, warm tears slippin’ free against his face.

Dino’s fingers hook again, and his other hand is between Ash’s legs.

All it takes is him wrappin’ his fist around his penis, and Ash comes hard. 

The feeling of it keeps his brain shorted out only a moment, before it all comes crashing back down on him, his soft moan sliding into broken sobs as he realizes what he’s done.

Oh, God… 

He really wasn’t nothin’ but a worthless whore.

A cheap fuckin’ filthy whore.

He hates himself. He wishes he were dead. Oh, it would be better to be dead, than to feel like this. It would be better than to feel like this.

“Oh, Ash, you poor boy. Is it really as bad as all that? You wouldn’t suffer like this if you could simply accept how much you want it.”

Ash shakes his head, his face still pressed against the pillow.

No, no, he doesn’t want this. He doesn’t. He _doesn’t_.

“Can’t you see how you make yourself suffer, Ash?” Dino’s hand rests against the back of his head, fingers curling gently into the strands of his hair. “Why do you try to deny it? It felt good, didn’t it? Why are you so against everything that makes you feel good?”

“… It doesn’t… it doesn’t…” Ash sobs, his voice a pitiful whimper. He doesn’t feel good now. He wants to die. Oh, Jesus, it hurts so much…

“Tch. Silly boy. Listen to yourself. You sound so tortured. You came, didn’t you? Didn’t you moan in pleasure when I touched you in just the way you like? Didn’t you push into my hand because you wanted to feel _more_? Don’t think for a moment I didn’t notice. You like to blame me for everything, isn’t that right? You like to pretend that you hate my hands on that perfect little body of yours. But in the end, you’re no different than any common whore, begging to be _fucked_. I’ll bet you’d like my fingers up that hole of yours again, wouldn’t you? You’d like my cock up that hole of yours?”

Ash sobs, wretched and helpless.

No, please, God no… he can’t anymore. He can’t…

“Sadly, Ash, I have further business to attend tonight, and so you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. I expect you gone from my room by the time I return. And change the sheets before you go, bring the ones you soiled to the laundry.”

Dino leaves him then, and Ash lays there unmoving, the feel of his own cum drying and cooling against his stomach, and he feels like everything Dino said he was. 

He feels like all those things, and he wishes so much he would just die.

Wishes so much he’d never been born in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, that was rough, I know. I think one of the hardest things for Ash, and really I think victims of sexual abuse in general, is probably the fact that the body reacts against the will. The body feels pleasure, even as in your mind you're screaming no, and you know logically that you don't want what's happening to you. And I think Dino is a very frightening villain, not only because of what he does to Ash, but because he's both very smart and very sadistic, and he loves the mess with Ash's head. This is one of the things that makes sexual abuse of children so horrible, this power imbalance of an adult, with an adults experience, manipulating a child and taking advantage of that child's LACK of experience, and inability to really understand what's happening to them. Ash knows what's happening to him is wrong, but he's still just a little boy, and he can't understand why his body betrays him like it does, and can't help thinking that there's something inherently wrong with him for it. He can't reconcile what he's feeling with what he wants. Dino understands that, and it's a particular sign of his cruelty, that he uses that against Ash, and uses Ash's confusion and fear against him in that way. Dino is far and away Ash's worst abuser, and there's a lot of reasons for that, not the least of which is the psychologically and emotionally manipulative games he plays with Ash. Anyway, I know that was a hard chapter to read, so for all of you who made it to the end, thank you for sticking with it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, let me know what you think! If you want me to continue, or no? I'd love to hear your thoughts!


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